Such Sweet Sorrow
by AmandaSpencer
Summary: Rory and Tristan are haunted by the past. Originally stated by Jennieln and continued with her permission
1. Such Sweet Sorrow

  
  


TITLE: Such Sweet Sorrow   
  


AUTHOR: Jennie (jennieln)   
  


EMAIL: jennie@burningobsession.com   
  


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first GG fanfic so = 

I would really appreciate feedback.   
  


Such Sweet Sorrow Chapter One   
  


He was bored. The manor was cold and empty and he wanted out. Out to adventure, excitement. passion, anything that wasn't here.   
  


His footsteps echoed as he passed through the grand hallway. Up ahead he could hear the voices of his parents and it sent a chill down his spine. He loved his parents dearly but when his mother used that tone, he knew he was in for something.   
  


Leaning against the door jam, he observed them sitting together on a small couch in front of the large fireplace. It wasn't cold outside and he didn't know why they had a fire going but it brought back memories of his childhood.   
  


"You summoned me?" He spoke confidently, hiding his fears beneath a facade.   
  


"Ah, yes my son. Join us won't you?" his father said with a smile.   
  


That made him even more nervous. He sat across from them trying to behave naturally.   
  


"You're almost seventeen now, old enough to be married by now," his mother started.   
  


God, not this discussion again. He didn't want to be married. Ever. Why couldn't they just accept that?   
  


"Now, look son, we are doing this for your own good. She comes from a very influential family and her parents agree that this will be a formidable match."   
  


He stood, overwhelmed. Him, married? "You're arranging a marriage for me?!" he cried. Panic gripped his heart and he fled from the room before they had a chance to respond. He didn't want to hear it. This could not be happening.   
  


He sprinted to the garden that encompassed the grounds. As a child he would run and run through the twists in the paths until a cold day when he was nine. He became so lost it took him five hours to find his way out. He hadn't gone in it since. Until now.   
  


Not paying attention to where her was going, he traveled deeper and deeper into the maze hoping he would become so lost that no one would ever find him. He needed to escape the weight of his parents' words.   
  


Soon, his anger faded and was replaced with a profound sadness. His movements slowed and he allowed himself to catch his breath. Tears threatened to fall but he refused to let them. He did not cry. Turning a corner, he saw her instantly.   
  


She was amazing.   
  


Her rich brown hair fell loosely around her face, framing the beauty of it perfectly as her eyes focused on the book in front of her. Judging by her plain dress, she was probably part of housekeeping and he wondered how he had never set eyes on her before.   
  


He cleared his throat hoping to catch a glimpse of her eyes.   
  


She leapt up out of fright before turning to him, a blush instantly coloring her cheeks. "I. I am so sorry, my lord. I-I know I'm not allowed here-" she stammered before running to the only exit. Luckily, it was behind him and he easily caught her arm as she passed.   
  


"No, please stay," he said softly, wishing she would look at him.   
  


Her hair fell, revealing an expanse of her creamy white neck to him. She was intoxicating."I don't understand, my lord." He held his breath as she slowly turned around, nervously fiddling with the book in her hands.   
  


"What's your name?" he asked, wanting to touch her cheek. her hair. her. If it had been any other girl, he would have, but for some reason she was different. She hesitated then answered shyly.   
  


"Isabella."   
  


Her eyes fluttered down and his heart sped up as he realized she was staring at his hand on her arm.   
  


Reluctantly, he let her go. "Well, Isabella, please stay. I have had a rotten day and would enjoy the company."   
  


She looked panicked and he wondered what she had heard about him. It was probably all true but suddenly he regretted his past indiscretions. "Yes, my lord." She bowed slightly, making him chuckle.   
  


"Please, call me William."   
  


She nodded slowly. "William," she repeated, testing it out.   
  


He smiled at the sound of his name on her lips."Tell me about your book," he said as he sat down under the tree she had been sitting at earlier. Her eyes instantly lit up and he laughed. It felt good. It had been a long time. 

***************************************************************   
  


Tristan awoke a few minutes before his alarm went off, feeling exceptionally happy. He struggled to grasp onto the elusive dream that had made him feel so warm.   
  


He remembered bits and pieces vaguely; blue eyes, laughing, a book, a garden, and a name, Isabella.   
  


He didn't know any Isabella's.   
  


Switching off the alarm, he padded into the bathroom rubbing the back of his neck. Mornings sucked. Turning the shower the hottest it would go, he closed his eyes and breathed in the steam letting it seep into him and clear his head.   
  


Twenty minutes later, he grabbed his tie, blazer and backpack before stomping noisily down the grand stairs.   
  


"Tristan, you mother left you a note, dear!" Gretchen called.   
  


Taking his keys from the cupboard in the entryway he strolled to the kitchen."Morning." He found the note on the counter.   
  


"Morning, love. Sleep well?" Gretchen had always been more of a mother figure than the woman who gave birth to him.   
  


"Sure did." He quickly scanned the letter before stopping to re-read it.   
  


Cancel all plans for Friday night. You have a date with the daughter of a very influential family from France. Details later. Kisses.   
  


The elderly lady laughed at the expression on his face. "Oh, it's not like you have to marry the girl or anything."   
  


He couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that was plaguing him.   
  


Gretchen shoved an apple in his had before pushing him to the back door. "You better hurry or you'll be late."   
  


Tristan pushed aside all his worries and smirked. "Planning on it."He quickly ducked out before she could get a hold of that infamous dishtowel. She had impeccable aim.   
  
  
  


She sat, shaded comfortably under her favorite tree, reading the novel that she had read hundreds of times before. It had belonged to her mother before. before the sickness. Her whole body ached.   
  


She was the newest maid at the Fairfield Manor so she was stuck with the majority of the grunt work. But she didn't mind. She needed the money.   
  


By this time, she should be heading home, before the sun started to set, but Isabella couldn't get any peace at her cousin' house. It was small, overcrowded and always loud. So instead, she snuck out into the gardens hoping to relax.   
  


For a brief moment, she thought she felt someone watching her but she convinced herself that she was just being paranoid. Hardly anyone ventured this far. Somebody cleared his throat to the side of her and she jumped up out of fright.   
  


She was in for it now. She would surely be fired for trespassing in here. Or even worse, it could be Jack. That was the last thing she needed, to be stuck this far from the house alone with Jack.   
  


Taking a deep breath, she turned around and froze in awe. The man before her had an air of nobility about him that made her instantly realize that he was William, the master's son.   
  


She had no idea that he was around her age. She had assumed from the things she had heard that he was more five and twenty. His eyes traveled the length of her body unabashedly and she felt herself blushing profusely."I..I am so sorry, my lord. I-I know I'm not allowed here-" She silently berated herself for sounding so pathetic as she ran past him to the garden's natural entryway.   
  


His hand gently grabbed her arm and she felt a jolt rush through her body. Her toes tingled. She couldn't look at him.   
  


"No, please stay," he whispered, a hint of desperation in his voice. Her knees grew weak as she felt his warm breath tickling her neck.   
  


"I don't understand, my lord." He made her nervous but she tried in vain not to show it. She faced him trying to look confident. Who was she kidding? She would be proud if she could just keep her lip from quavering.   
  


"What's your name?" His voice was gentle and it startled her more than the question.   
  


Hesitantly, she answered. "Isabella." His fingers loosened on her arm reminding her of their presence. She found herself staring at them, unable to stop her heart from throbbing a little bit harder. And then he let go, leaving the spot cold and empty.   
  


"Well, Isabella, please stay. I have had a rotten day and would enjoy the company." 

Suddenly, all the stories she had heard about him and the majority of the female population within fifteen kilometers, both nobility and not, came flooding into her mind. But she couldn't disobey him. She needed the job desperately.   
  


"Yes, my lord," she said quietly and she bowed her head slightly so he wouldn't notice the flush on her face.   
  


He chuckled and it was a beautiful yet aggravating sound sending chills spiraling through her. How dare he laugh at her!   
  


"Please, call me William."Suddenly, she saw through his cocky and arrogant facade and glimpsed pain in his eyes. She wondered what could possibly be so bad in his life because frankly, he had it all.   
  


She found herself repeating his name in her head before allowing it to pass through her lips.   
  


There was a moment where she thought he was going to kiss her and she surprised herself by wanting him to, despite her fears. But he moved away, crossing to the soft grass she had previously occupied.   
  


"Tell me about your book."   
  


She was confused, yet happy. This was like nothing she had heard about. He used girls-took advantage of them-he didn't ask them about their books.   
  


Excitedly, she sat down next to him and began to relate one of her favorite tales.   
  


****************************************************** *****   
  


Rory woke up refreshed which surprised her since she had gone to bed late the night before when inspiration for a project had hit her.   
  


Rolling over she squealed when she saw the time. She had slept in almost forty minutes past her alarm. Although she had never done it before, she must've turned it off in her sleep.   
  


She grabbed her clothes and ran out of her room, through the kitchen ignoring her mother, to the bathroom, and into the shower. She was out within three minutes, practically a world record in the Gilmore house. Her skirt and shirt were thrown on as she collected the other odds and ends to her uniform.   
  


"Mom!" she cried, as she re-entered the kitchen. "Why didn't you wake me up?" She struggled to pull her hair up into what resembled a ponytail.   
  


Her mother looked up from her business book. "Do I look like a clock radio to you?"   
  


"Mom!" Rory exclaimed exasperatedly.   
  


Lorelei threw her hands up. "I didn't know you were still sleeping, Miss Punctual. You know, you've only been going to Chilton for a week; you really should be trying to make a better impression. Wouldn't want you to tarnish the Gilmore name-oh wait, I already didn't that. Tarnish away."   
  


"Don't make me 'mom' you again," Rory warned. She grabbed her backpack and thermos.   
  


"Want the jeep? I can call Sookie."   
  


She nodded taking a much-needed sip of coffee.   
  


"Did you forget to set the alarm or something?"   
  


"No, I think I was just having a really good dream." She fished her hand around in her bag trying to gain purchase on her keys.   
  


"Ooh! Was it about Dean? Did he take you to the ice cream parlor and buy one of those humongous shakes and get only two straws and then the straws lead you two to each other's mouths and-no wait. that was spaghetti."   
  


"Not to mention dogs," Rory commented dryly. She finally dragged her keys free from the clutches of her overstuffed backpack. "And who says 'parlor' anymore? You're old."   
  


"Okay, Miss Crabby Pants no jeep for you." Lorelei got up and walked to the doorway.   
  


"Okay, okay. I repent. I really need to go." She crossed her arms and looked pointedly at her mom blocking the back door.   
  


"You know, I could just go out the front door."   
  


"Fine, fine. I'll move only if you promise to tell me all the juicy dream details tonight."   
  


"Sorry, plans with Dean, besides I don't remember it."She finally slipped past her mom and ran to the jeep.   
  


Truth be told, she really didn't remember the dream at all. The only thing that remained was a feeling of happiness.   
  


But she definitely didn't have any objections to being happy.   
  


***********************************************************   
  


He stared deep into her eyes and watched her melt before him. It was so easy.   
  
  
  


"I'm really sorry-" he cut off trying to remember her name. Sarah? Serena? Stephanie? It continued to elude him so he went on.   
  


"I'm going to have to cancel our date Friday."She looked disappointed, as well she should be, he thought with a hidden smirk.   
  


"What about Saturday?"His smirk slipped through to his mouth. Some girls just never gave up.   
  


"Sorry, hotel Tristan is all booked up. Reservations must be made a year in advance."She pouted and he tried not to roll his eyes.   
  


Leaning comfortably against her locker, he licked his lips, enjoying the look of wanting on her face."BUT we just might be able to make an exception for you."   
  


The bell rang and he looked up just as the new girl ran in with a gust of wind.   
  


He didn't know what it was about her that made him so interested. Okay, he lied. He knew exactly what it was. She didn't want him and he wasn't used to that. A girl had never turned him down before and he vowed that she wouldn't be the first. Most guys would have simply walked away but not Tristan DuGrey. He thrived on a challenge.   
  


He turned and quickly followed her down the hall.   
  


"Hey! Where are you going?" the girl behind him called. "Are we on for Saturday?"   
  


He faced her and, walking backwards, offered a sly grin. "Call the front desk and see what they say!" he yelled through the crowds of students milling their way to their classes, before jogging after the brown haired beauty.   
  


He spotted her at her locker, juggling books. He approached silently and casually draped an arm over her shoulder whispering into her ear. "Bad day, Mary?"   
  


She shrugged out from underneath him. "Tristan, I know it's hard but please refrain from touching me." She shoved a book into her bag and the others into her locker.   
  


"Why? Do I make your knees weak? Make it hard to concentrate?" He reached out to touch her cheek but she angrily jerked away.   
  


"More like make my stomach churn," she snapped back starting toward their first period.   
  


"Wow, Mary. I never knew I made you that nervous." He leaned in close as the walked, smelling something fruity. Oranges. That's what it was. "Don't be scared of me. I don't bite..Unless you want me to." He cocked an eyebrow suggestively, much to her disgust.   
  
  
  
  
  


"Well, thank you for that terrifying insight into your mind. I'll be sure to pass the tidbits along to someone who cares. That is if I can find someone."   
  


They had reached their classroom and Tristan leapt ahead to hold the door open for her. "How about we continue the scouring of my inner workings over dinner on Saturday?"   
  


"Did the flavor of the week cancel on you? You must be devastated." She sat at her desk and sighed when he kneeled next to her.   
  


"I think I may need some TLC. Now about Saturday-"   
  


"Mr. DuGrey, please take your seat. Class is starting."He stood and in giving the teacher a mock salute, sauntered to his seat in the back. He wondered why Rory didn't succumb to his charms. Not that he expected anyone to, but she seemed to be the only one resilient to them.   
  


He settled back into his seat, determined to take notes this time.   
  


**********************************************************   
  


Rory didn't understand why Tristan was so infuriating. One would think that someone with his upbringing would have better manners but she of all people knew that things were never as they seemed.   
  


Did he really think that, that was the way to a girl's heart? To annoy her? Drive her crazy? She would never understand him. Not that she wanted to, cause she didn't. At all. Her mind wandered and she thought about the dream she had had that morning.   
  


She wished that she remembered it. There was this importance surrounding it. But that was silly. It was only a dream. Just her subconscious entertaining itself.   
  


Suddenly, all went dark. The sounds of the classroom were replaced by that of birds chirping and someone's heavy breathing. She could no longer feel the rigid back of the chair, instead the strong, warm comfort of someone's arms. A tear splashed against her cheek and she opened her eyes to bright blue ones.   
  


"Please Isabella. Don't leave me."She closed her eyes against the onslaught of pain that consumed her and when she opened them, she found herself back in the classroom.   
  


Thanking whatever higher power existed, she saw that no one seemed to have noticed her lapse into unconsciousness.   
  


The rest of the class period passed uneventfully as she forced herself to concentrate on the lecture and not on her impending insanity. The bell rang and she took a moment to gather her wits.   
  
  
  


"I know you like to daydream about me, but really, you shouldn't do it in class."   
  


So much for no one noticing. Rory groaned. This was the last thing she needed at the moment.   
  


She got up, planning on simply ignoring him, hoping he would lose interest.   
  


"Now, about Saturday. I'll pick you up at six-"   
  


"Tristan! Do I need to rent a billboard or something? I am not going out with you. Ever." She made the mistake of looking up into his eyes seeing the clear, crystal blue cloud over in hurt. 'No, not hurt,' she told herself. 'Just his ego being bruised.' But she still found herself trying to soften the blow.   
  


"Tristan," she said, grabbing his hand before he turned away. She ignored the unfamiliar thrum she felt at the touch. "It's not-I have a boyfriend."   
  


He visibly darkened and pulled away."I don't know what you're thinking but I was just trying to do the new girl a favor. Believe me, it won't happen again."   
  


He left before she had a chance to respond. 


	2. Sweet Dreams

Such Sweet Sorrow   
  
  
  


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Gilmore Girls. If I did, I would have signed CMM to a five-year contract, as well as have kept Tristan on the show!   
  


Author's Note: This is my second fanfiction ever, and my first Gilmore Girls fic, so be kind and review! Also, my chapter three is a continuation from Jennieln's story: Such Sweet Sorrow from where she left off at chapter 2. I have her permission to continue and hopefully I'll do this incredible story justice. Thanks to Nel for Beta-ing this, even though I'm horrible to work with and absolutely hate tinkering with it once it's done your suggestions were right on and I NEEDED the help. LoL, and enjoy the fanfic   
  


Chapter Three: Meeting the Past   
  


One Month Later   
  


She was sitting in the garden, reading as she waited for him. He paused at the entranceway as he remembered their first meeting and all the times that followed .She always sat reading until he arrived. When she caught sight of him, her cheeks would flush and she would look away shyly before greeting him. In his turbulent life, she'd become the one sweetness for all the bitter. Her beauty drew him even as her purity kept him from attempting her. For all his faults, he couldn't bring himself to destroy her innocence as he had with the other young servant girls.   
  


Isabella looked up and caught William watching her again, and looked away quickly growing suspiciously enraptured by the fountain in the center isle. He quickly stiftled the arrogant mocking that sprang to his lips and glanced toward the bubbling water.   
  


"Hello, my lord," she greeted demurely. She was, yet again, the cause of his smile.   
  


"Hello, my Bella. I thought I had asked you to call me William," he reminded her as he took the seat next to her on the tiny bench. Around them the garden walls blocked the view of anyone nearby, leaving them enclosed in their own private cocoon. A gentle breeze carried the perfume of flowers already half past their bloom. Birds perched in the nearby tree chirpped gaily in the sunshine but William saw none of this as he watched the beauty beside him, while she in turn attempted to evade this quiet moment of intimacy.   
  


"You know, 'tis improper for me to informally address you. What if someone were to hear?" she queried lightly, gazing down at the book she was gripping tightly.   
  


"Well, as I am the future employer of any staff members who could overhear and since I am a member of the upper eons, should anyone of my station catch such a inconsequential slip, I feel certain no one would report you," he boasted, a little arrogantly.   
  


She frowned at his casual attitude. "I am not at all certain it is wise to continue our meetings at all. If someone were to discover us, thus I could be turned out and I need this job, my lord."   
  


"Isabella, I would never permit you to be harmed from our association. I consider you a friend. I hope you look on me the same?" he asked, watching her expectantly.   
  


Her eyes brightened and she gave him a sweet smile. "It would be my honor to call you a friendWilliam."   
  


He resisted the sudden urge to cup her head in his hands and to kiss her. Instead, he touched her hand gently, turning her book over so he could read the title. 

"Ah, poetry.. .you enjoy Keats, then?" he asked.   
  


"From your tone I gather you do not?" she countered, studying him from the side.   
  


"I confess, while the professors droned on and on about Wordsworth and Tennyson, I found it rather amusing that for men of little means they seem to expound on all and sundry," he admitted disdainful.   
  


"Having little means does not limit the scope of the imagination or intelligence, my lord, it is simply the station to which one is born. Surely with all your means you can find some poem that reaches past your cynicism to touch your soul? Have you read Endymion, for instance?" she asked quietly, but with a barely visible undercurrent of vehemence.   
  


William shook his head regretfully, reaching to take her hand in his. "I did not think. Forgive me for my arrogance?"   
  


She gave him a determined smile and nodded hesitantly. "I understand, it's all right." However, she was silent, still. William cleared his throat roughly.   
  


"What is the piece you mentioned? Endomian?"   
  


"Endymion," she laughed. "It is a wonderful poem of Keats'. The beginning is the most beautiful verse."   
  


"Beautiful.." he echoed absently, staring at her . Her whole being seemed to be lit from the inside as she passionately spoke of her love of poetry. It made his chest hurt just to see her. Her eyes were alive and flashing, as she laughed, everything inside of her suddenly coming to life and making her appear far more beautiful than he had ever realized. This tiny scrap of a girl barely out of the schoolroom, no fortune or family titles and she was more alive over this bit of poetry than he had ever felt in all his days.   
  


"A thing of beauty is a joy forever/its loveliness increases; it will never/Pass into nothingness; but still will keep/A bower quiet for us" 

After reading the passage, she looked up at him for a reaction. He looked at her in surprise, and she frowned at him. 

"What? Don't you like it?"   
  


"What? Oh yes, I think I could come to love... poetry." he answered slowly. She smiled at him encouragingly and he realizes it was going to be his greatest challenge to win her, but if he was clever, she could melt the ice around his heart.   
  
  
  


*********************************************************** 

As Isabella sat in the garden waiting for William's arrival, she stared blankly down at the book in her lap. Although she read it countless times, it had always managed to carry her away. Today, it held little interest. Her mind seemed to have stored up tiny bits of memory of these stolen moments with William. Refusing to obey her attempts to deny his entry into her mind, she instead thought of the way his hair caught the sun or his smiles, he had a hundred different smiles. His slow smile as he charmed her, or his quick flashing grin when something truly amused him or his arrogant lord-of-the-manor smile that cut her to the quick. All these played in her mind over and over until the words before her ceased to exist. 

William kept asking her to meet him, and though he never attempted anything except friendly conversation, she was growing uneasy. As her employer's son, he had the power to order her presence. He could even decide to turn her out if she refused him. 

That wasn't why she kept meeting him here in the garden, beyond the tall hedges that blocked out the rest of the property and gave them their own concealed little world to hide in. She sighed. Isabella enjoyed talking to him, as he was amusing and kind even though he could be arrogant and cynical. She found herself wanting to befriend him, and wanting to show him the beauty around him before his heart grew too cold to see it. 

Suddenly, she stiffened. Feeling someone watching her, she looked up and found William's eyes on her. She looked away quickly starring blindly at the fountain to their right. 

"Hello, my lord," she spoke quietly, afraid of stumbling over her words.   
  


"Hello, my Bella. I thought I asked you to call me William." 

He sat beside her and she barely resisted the impulse to jump up and flee.   
  


"You know 'tis improper for me to informally address you. What if someone were to hear?" she asked inanely, trying sever the connection he was attempting to make. Every time they met she seemed to end up lecturing him and he teasing her. 

Listening to him haughtily reassure her that no one would question him, she frowned. He was always so casual, as if nothing touched him. She knew better. 

"..I consider you a friend, I hope you look on me the same," he said uncertainly and she felt her heart pinch painfully. She knew he was trying to play on her soft heart but she also saw the hint of vulnerability he tried to bury. Some part of him beneath the Lord-of-the-Manor mask he wore was a boy who needed somebody. 

"It would be my honor to call you a friend...William," she told him hesitantly using his name and furthering their secluded intimacy. Isabella saw his eyes focus on her lips and felt her mind freeze as she realized he was going o kiss her. 

Oh God, do I want him to kiss me? What if he ruins me like the others? Should I stop him? Do I want him to kiss me? Her mind raced so quickly she was already leaning forward as she felt him touch her wrist gently.   
  


"Ah poetry...you enjoy Keats, then?"   
  


Her head snapped up and she tried to focus on what he was saying... Keats? He was asking about her book. Right.   
  


"From your tone, I gather you do not?" she asked at last, studying him sideways. He was wearing his arrogant smile now, full of his own importance and contemptuously waving away the toils of lesser men. 

"I confess, while the professors droned on and on.." 

She heard him answer breezily, and arrogantly as if this, too, was something meaningless and she began to wonder what, if anything, he held dear. His cruel dismissal of "men of little means" caused a flood of anger to flow through her and she wondered if perhaps he saw her the same as he did the teachers, as someone too poor to know anything. 

He apologized immediately, and even as she tucked away the flash of concern in his eyes as he realized his error she nevertheless remained silent, still hurt by his words. There was a sobering flicker in his eyes as he asked for forgiveness. At last, a true emotion.   
  


She ended up lecturing him about Keats and poetry, watching as his eyes began to glow with curiosity and she almost smiled smugly to herself. She quoted her favorite verse to him and looked up to find him watching her with some fire in his eyes that she didn't recognize, but it made her head spin "What? Don't you like it?"   
  


"What? Oh, yes. I think I could come to love poetry," he answered, watching her. closely.She ignored the emotions in his she couldn't or wouldn't name and smiled at him warmly, grateful that he hadn't laughed. At the times when his arrogance showed, she often wondered why she continued to meet him. 

Then, there were moments like these when she would explain about the things she loved and he would simply listen. Stolen moments filled with laughter and heated discussions of opposing views, that made her feel more alive. Isabella looked up and caught his smiling eyes watching her intently, and the maid knew her life would never be the same.   
  


******************************************************** 

"Rrriiinnnngggg!!"   
  


The alarm screamed loudly, dragging Rory out of the drugging sleep . Blearily, she reached over to her night table, hitting the snooze button to put the contraption out of its misery. 

With the clock finally silenced (at least momentarily), Rory turned over, fighting the day's pull. She heard her mother singing in the kitchen and groaned. 

She sat up, her eyes still shut as she felt her way toward the kitchen. The sleepy girl winced as she bumped into the doorway and squeaked as she felt something furry brush her foot.   
  


"Mornin', hon," Lorelai called out cheerfully. Rory groaned again at the earsplitting cheerfulness of her mother's voice.   
  


"Need. Coffee," she mumbled, stepping into the kitchen.   
  


"Aww, sweetie, rough night again?" Lorelai ask sympathetically, leading Rory to a chair. 

Rory slumped into the seat and dropped her head to the table top. 

"Hurmph."   
  


"Here."   
  


Rory heard a mug bumping the table and sighed, reaching blindly for it. Her fingers curled around a large heated cup and she dragged it forward, drinking quickly before forcing her eyes open.   
  


"Mornin'," she blinked at her mother, lifting the cup for another quick gulp.   
  


"Rory- you look awful, babe. That dream again?" Lorelai asked eyeing her daughter with concern.   
  


Rory nodded slowly. "It's not the same one, just the same people. It's like I'm watching scenes from a movie, but only one a night and it's taking forever to get to the ending," she grumbled through another huge sip of coffee.   
  


Lorelai sat across from her, gripping her own mug in both hands as she watched Rory with growing concern. "Maybe you should go see Dr. Bobby."   
  


Rory looked up and frowned at her mother. "What? Why?" Rory hated doctors.   
  


"Cause, you look like I just dug you up after burying you in the yard last year? 'Cause you're sleeping nine hours a night and you look like one of the creatures from "Buffy"? Maybe Dr. Bobby can prescribe something to help you sleep better or maybe he knows someone who knows Buffy?" Lorelai suggested eagerly.   
  


"Please... no way does Dr. Bobby know anyone who carries stakes and wears all that leather. Besides I don't like pills. I'm okay, I'm just a little tired. The dreams'll probably end soon," Rory reassured her. Lorelai watched her for a moment before nodding slowly. 

"Okay, babe, your call. Promise me if it gets worse you'll talk to someone who's not muttering under their breath with a cat on their head."   
  


"I promise. I should get going; I need to get ready for school," Rory said, standing and slowly shuffling away from the table.   
  


A moment later, Lorelai looked up from the paper as Rory walked back into the kitchen. Her daughter picked up the forgotten mug and poured another cup of coffee before turning away again.   
  


Lorelai smiled. "That's my girl."   
  
  
  


**********************************************************   
  


Tristan's hand smacked down brutally, smashing the alarm clock. He grunted, rolling onto his back and debating the possibility of going back to sleep before Gretchen made it upstairs to drag him out of bed. 

Reluctantly, he swung his legs over the side and dragged himself up off the comfort of his bed. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to ease the gritty-sand feeling from his eyes. Last night he'd gone to bed early, trying to achieve even a semblance of rest. So far, the dreams were leaving him exhausted. He headed for the shower, hoping the hot water would clear his foggy head. 

Twenty minutes later, he stepped out of the shower feeling slightly more awake. 

Wrapping a towel around his hips, he wiped the steam from the mirror and chuckled at his own reflection. He stared at the mirror image of his wet locks sticking up in all directions and heavy-lidded eyes that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with feeling like he was dying. "Damn! Even when I feel like shit, I look good," he mocked at the face in the mirror. 

Using a comb to tame his hair into a more organized disarray, he added some mousse to hold it, before slipping into his uniform. Adjusting the tie to look rakishly disheveled, he slung his heavy pack over one shoulder and headed downstairs. 

"Good morning .You get any sleep last night?" Gretchen asked, glancing over her shoulder to get a good look at him.   
  


"It's all those naughty dreams, keeping me awake," Tristan grinned, winking at her .   
  


She clucked at him before setting the plate of pancakes in front of him. 

"Maybe I should have a talk with your folks. They can get someone for you to talk to," she fretted, making Tristan snort cynically.   
  


"Like who? There's no way they'll risk sending me to a shrink, just think of the embarrassment. What will the people at the country club say? The DuGreys are not crazy. Cold sons of bitches, yes, but not crazy," he muttered.   
  


He saw Gretchen bite her lip and instantly regretted the outburst. 

While his parents didn't care what he did in his spare time or what happened to him, as long as he wasn't a public embarrassment, Gretchen truly wanted him to be happy. 

Tristan suspected she wouldn't even have stayed with the family if it weren't for him, it made him smile charmingly at the woman now.   
  


"It's okay, Gretchen. I'm a little tired, I'll survive. Besides, I've got you to talk to, haven't I?"   
  


She smiled at him, despite the worry still in her eyes, but remained silent.   
  


******************************************************** 

Later At School   
  


Rory glanced up at the clock for the millionth time, and barely resisted the urge to moan pitifully. 

Four cups of coffee and she was still having trouble focusing. She knew the notes she'd jotted down would make little sense later and idly wondered if someone in class would lend her their notes to copy. She smothered a sigh as she recalled how well that had gone the last time she'd needed to borrow notes and Tristan had offered his, kinda. 

Mr. Medina was explaining the new section of poetry as they moved into English Literature of the 19th century, when she heard a familiar name and her head snapped up towards her teacher. 

"Some of you may have read Keats' Endymion" Mr. Medina said as he held up a book of poetry. 

His voice faded away along with everything else in the Chilton Academy classroom, and she could hear birds chirping, and feel the gentle breeze as it played with her hair. 

She smiled over at William.   
  


"A thing of beauty, is a joy forever" she quoted softly.   
  


"What was that, Miss.Gilmore?" William asked, and she frowned. 

She blinked and instead of William, she saw Mr. Medina and the whole class staring at her expectantly.   
  


"Uh a thing of beauty the-the quote from Endymion," she repeated the quote hopefully. 

Mr. Medina smiled, to her good fortune.   
  


"Yes. Miss. Gilmore is obviously a fan of his work as well. As I said, Keats' work in this period plays a vital role" and Mr. Medina's voice went on about the poet's many accomplishments.   
  


Rory slumped down gratefully in her chair as the attention turned away from her. Maybe she should go see Dr. Bobby if she was going to keep having spells in class. She laid her suddenly heavy head against her hand, propping it up as she listened to Mr.Medina's deep voice.   
  


She didn't notice when her eyes slid close and she fell into a deep sleep, hardly caring of her GPA, or all the information she would miss if she did fall away.   
  


************************************************************   
  


Tristan gave up any pretense of paying attention to Medina's lecture after Rory's sudden outburst. He'd seen her eyes stare blindly into space for a moment as Medina talked about Keats and he'd smiled. 

'She must like Keats,' he reasoned in his mind, before his own dream had come flooding back. 

'Isabella liked Keats, she'd been teasing him-no, not him, William- with Keats,' he recalled with sudden clarity. 

Tristan was still thinking about the dream when he heard Rory speaking and he sat back in utter surprise as she quoted the same line from his dream. 

'What the hell?' he thought furiously. 'Okay, DuGrey, just chill out. Obviously, you know the quote from somewhere, and it just came up in the dream. And, Rory knows every line ever written- no surprise there. After all the time she spends reading, of course she would know it,' he nodded slightly to himself, it sounded reasonable and not a bit crazy. 

'Not yet, anyway,' he thought grimly.   
  


The scruffy-haired boy saw Rory scrunch down in her seat and he considered teasing her about not paying attention again. Maybe after class.   
  


Sometimes he didn't know why he bothered taunting her, but some part of him ruthlessly drove him to seek her out and force her to acknowledge him.   
  


Rory's posture slackened further and Tristan leaned forward to see her a bit better. He choked back the laugh that threatened to take over his body as he realized his Mary had fallen asleep.   
  


He glanced toward Medina and saw him turn to write instructions on the board and Tristan quickly decided to let her sleep.   
  


'She didn't look well this morning, anyway,' he mused, ignoring the part of his head that whispered, 'Liar.' He settled back to watch her and felt the now familiar tug at his heart as he studied her.   
  


She wasn't really that beautiful. He'd seen other girls, slept with other girls who were more beautiful and yet he watched her. In the month she'd been at Chilton, he had quickly discovered that whenever Rory entered a room, his eyes automatically strayed to her and refused to obey his commands to stop straying.   
  


Unlike any other girl who caught his notice, she seemed immune to his charm. He had finally got the message that not only did Rory Gilmore not want to go out with him, she barely knew he existed.   
  


So he'd done the only thing a mature high-school boy could do in his situation. Tristan teased her and taunted her until she'd finally seen him, and now he had a place in her life; her tormentor. It wasn't a place he particularly liked, but at least he wasn't invisible to her anymore.   
  


Tristan studied the side of her face that was turned toward him and wondered if her skin was as soft as it always looked. Everything about her was so soft, gentle, delicate and yet she had a fierce enough spirit to fight with him, to draw him in.   
  


He watched her take in a slow breath and felt his own breathing slow to meet hers. He was staring so hard that when his eyes slid shut he could still see her form in his mind. 

***********************************************************   
  


She was smiling at him again, having successfully argued the boy into conceding that land management required personal supervision rather than the shiftlessness of the ton in handing over everything to the estate managers.   
  


He couldn't stop his own smile from forming even as he attempted to think of another opposing argument. She did that to him; made him want to smile even when he wanted to curse the world. His smile faded as he thought of his parents. William's parents had asked their "friends and their lovely daughter" to visit the country house next week. He knew his parents wanted to announce his engagement to the "lovely daughter" but he had no intention of marrying her. It made him angry just by remembering the last argument about the upcoming betrothal.   
  


"Why the frown, William?" Isabella asked, drawing his attention back to his surroundings. She was watching him, concern in her lovely brown eyes. He smiled at her again, more in reassurance than in reply to her question.   
  


"When you smile at me, I cannot think of a good reason to frown." he answered suavely.   
  


She gave him an exasperated look. "Stop trying to charm me and tell me what is vexing you."   
  


"You think I'm charming, Bella?" he countered seductively. 

She laughed, swatting at him gently before giving him a stern look.   
  


He sighed reluctantly giving in to her silent demand. 

"My parents... they wish me to marry," William admitted quietly.   
  


She glanced away before nodding slowly in understanding. 

"And you do not wish to marry?"   
  


"I am only seventeen; I have no desire to settle into a loveless marriage of the Ton. They would have me marry and live a life like theirs; a life where my wife is a politely distant stranger and my children merely pawns brought out for inspection once or twice a year," he retorted bitterly, before looking back at her.   
  


She was looking at him sadly, and he groaned."I'm sorry, Isabella. I should not have told you of my troubles, they are but my own." 

William took her hands in his and reached out to caress her cheek with the slightest touch of the back of his hand.   
  


"Life can be so unjust when your choices are taken from you. I understand this better than you may imagine," she told him quietly.   
  


He peered into her eyes and saw the sorrow that she hid there. So many times he had spoken to her as an equal. Not thinking of her as someone who cleaned his home, someone whose life was not her own. She never complained about the difficulties in her own life. Isabella only tried to comfort him and share the things she loved. Only now could he see the pain in her. 

She was one of the most intelligent people he had ever met, and one of the most beautiful inside and out. And in what did her future hold? Marriage to another servant? Spinsterhood until she would retire in poverty, alone? Ruin at the hands of some other gentleman? 

Suddenly, he hated this world he had been born into, this world that told him she was beneath him. They were wrong, it was he who was undeserving of her notice. 

He regarded her silently a moment longer before leaning forward and touching his lips to hers in the sweet and painful way that would be their first- and might be their only kiss.   
  


*******************************************************   
  


"BR-R-R-R-R-R-ING!"   
  


Tristan jumped, startled as the bell rang, signaling the end of class. He glanced up at the clock and realized he'd missed the last twenty minutes of class. Around him people were beginning to shift as they gathered their things to go. 

He glanced over at Rory and saw her clap a hand over her mouth as if she were stifling a scream and her glanced around quickly to see if anyone noticed. 

The rest of the class filed out, ignoring him and Rory as they stayed in their seats.   
  


He saw Rory scramble to gather her things, and he smiled as he thought of telling her they'd slept together. He was about to lean over when he heard Mr. Medina clear his throat at the front of the classroom.   
  


"Mr. DuGrey, Miss Gilmore, if I could have a moment of your time, please?"   
  


Tristan muffled the sigh that threatened to escape the confines of his lungs and glanced at Rory as he stood; she was frozen and she looked as if she were about to panic. 

Ignoring the impulse to say something comforting, he headed for the front of the room and leaned against the desk in the front row. He stiffened infinitesimally as he felt her stand next to him, but kept his eyes on Medina. 

"I 

saw the two of you napping. I was planning to wake you both rather rudely when the bell beat me to it," Mr. Medina told them when the last student had left the room. 

He came around to the front of the desk and sat down on the corner of it. "You want to tell me why two of the brightest kids in this class just happen to be sleeping through it?"   
  


Tristan snuck a glance at Rory and saw her shoot him a horrified look. 

"Sorry sir, haven't been sleeping well. It won't happen again," said Tristan.   
  


"Me, too. I mean, I haven't been sleeping well, by myself, I mean," Rory stuttered, her face turning red.   
  


Medina discreetly coughed and hid his smile while Tristan openly smirked at Rory's inadvertent suggestion.   
  


"All right, I'm going to call this your one and only verbal warning, because I do not want see this behavior again. I don't want to punish you for what was most likely a harmless slip. You'll have to borrow the notes from someone and catch up on the assignment, but if this happens again with either of you I'll take it directly to Headmaster Charleston. Do you understand?" Medina asked, looking between the two of them.   
  


"Yes, sir, " Tristan nodded.   
  


"Yes, sir," Rory echoed, more quietly.   
  


Medina nodded, dismissing them and Rory raced out of the room, grabbing her backpack before Tristan could think of something to say to make her feel better.   
  


'Face it, DuGrey, you just would've ended up pissing her off,' he told himself, grimacing at the thought even as he accepted it as probable. 

Tristan picked up his bag and headed to his own locker, thinking about the dream he'd just had. It had left him feeling anxious, as if something important were slipping by him. He shook off his tension as he approached his locker and saw his friends gathered by it. Donning his familiar smirk, he nodded at them.   
  


"What's up?"   
  


"DuGrey, man, you are the craziest bastard. I saw you snoozin' through Medina's class! So, what's up? Your date exhaust you last night, or what?" John said, slapping him on the back. He gave John a rueful look as he ran a hand through his hair. John was a good guy, probably his closest friend and he already knew all about Rory and Tristan's fascination with her but he couldn't bring himself to admit he'd fallen asleep watching her. John was standing next to Mike and Eddie was leaning against the lockers forming a circle around him and he ignored the impulse to keep walking. Instead he shrugged indifferently as he put away his books.   
  


"Nah, I've just been having some weird dreams lately," he admitted.   
  


"Nightmares plaguing you, Tristan?" John asked, snorting derisively   
  


"Yeah, right. Nah, just the usual Lord of the Manor seduces pretty new young maid. That sort of thing," he answered dismissively. His friends laughed, teasing him about his love life all being in his head. Mike, another one of the guys, nudged him and nodded behind his friend. 

Tristan turned to see Rory standing at her own locker a few feet away. Her books were lying sprawled on the floor as if she had dropped them. She stared at Tristan in shock.   
  


He frowned, wondering what her problem was now. Mike elbowed him. 

"Uh-oh, DuGrey, you've done it now. Looks like you've shocked the little Mary."   
  


Tristan eyed Rory speculatively.   
  


"That right, Mary? Did I shock you?" he called out, provocatively. 

Instead of retorting with a cutting remark of her own, she bent down to pick up her books before hurriedly shutting her locker and rushing away from them. Tristan's friends laughed.   
  


Tristan watched her retreating figure, confused by her reaction to his friends' teasing. After a moment he shrugged, banishing her from his thoughts and smirking at his friends. 

*******************************************************   
  


Rory sat in class, trying to pay attention to the teacher's lecture on dynamics of Trigonometry, but her mind kept wandering back to Tristan. She had not meant to listen to him, and his friends especially, when they mentioned his date from the night before. Her locker was close enough to his that with no effort she could hear every word. It was the words "weird dreams " that had caught her attention. 

. 

Then, she heard him tell his friends that he wasn't suffering from nightmares. He was suffering from Lord-of-the-Manor seduces pretty, new, young maid dreams. Rory saw William's face flash in her mind.   
  


Her mind had snapped back to the sounds of her books hitting the ground, but she had stared at Tristan, trying to understand why he would say that, trying to figure out if it was possible the two of them were having similar dreams.   
  


She saw him call out to her, but the words seemed muffled and she ran, suddenly afraid of the possibilities. It was ridiculous.   
  


'We probably saw the same movie, or read the same book, or something. I'll just ask him to describe the dream and then I can go back to being the mental case my mother adores. Then he can go back to beingCampus Stud,' she nodded, satisfied at having come up with a reasonable solution and she turned her attention back to Trig.   
  


********************************************************   
  


Later that day, in the library.   
  


Rory waited until John had left the table he was sharing with Tristan. She wanted to speak to him without the disruption of his friend.   
  


She had to wait until after he ducked out of lunch with his friends. 

Now, it was the last period of the day and she knew that if she did not confront him right now, she probably would not bother questioning him at all. She needed him to confirm that it was just a coincidence; that the two of them were not experiencing similar freaky dreams for no reason.   
  


She had to talk to him.   
  


"Uh, hi."   
  


Tristan's head snapped up and he glanced at her in mute surprise.   
  


"Mary?"   
  


"You know, that's actually not my name. Is it okay if I sit down for a sec?" she asked him hesitantly.   
  


He waved toward the empty chairs and Rory slid into the one across from him.   
  


Tristan looked at her expectantly and she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. She saw him smirk at her nervous fidgeting and she stopped.   
  


"Why so nervous, Mary? You know you can tell me anything. So what's going on? No, wait, I got it. You're finally giving in and admitting how bad you want me. Tell you what, I'll make it easy for you. Just say; 'Tristan, you are my god, let me worship you,' and I'll pick you up at 7."   
  


He sat back in his chair, watching her coolly. Her eyes narrowed.   
  


"Does your head hurt?" she asked, suddenly.   
  


"What? No, why?" he frowned, a little confused by her question.   
  


"I figured with all the inflating, your brain must be ready to explode," she sniped, rising to her feet to get away from him.   
  


"I don't even know why I bother. My head must need examining. Stupid me."   
  


"Wait, Rory."   
  


Tristan reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist, restraining her from leaving. 

"I'm just teasing; if you need something"   
  


Rory turned back, looking at him searchingly and saw the sincerity in his eyes. Slowly, she sat back down across from him and he released her wrist.   
  


"I just I heard you talkingabout your dreams. How well do you remember them?"   
  


"Want to know if you're in them?"   
  


She glared at him, and he held his hands up in surrender. 

"Sorry, habit. Um I don't really remember a lot. Bits and pieces, really, and it sucks 'cause I feel like I haven't slept when I wake up. Even if I sleep for ten hours. Why?"   
  


Rory was peering across the table at him now, more intensely. 

"I don't- I've been having weird dreams I'm so tired it's like my brain is playing this movie and it won't let me rest until I get to the end credits. It's- I was wondering if there's a connection; some reason we both are having similar experiences."   
  


"What do you remember from your dreams?" he asked, quietly.   
  


"A girl. A maid in his parents' home. He'sdifferent with her than with the others, they're friends. I think. He- the way he looks at her sometimes I don't know, it's stupid, but they fit. He belongs to society ,but when he's with her, he's just William," she said, breathing the name.   
  


Tristan's head snapped up at the name and if he hadn't been staring at her before, he was now. 

"Isabella," he answered, stunned.   
  


They stared at each other as it donned on them both. They weren't having similar dreams. 

They were having the same dreams.   
  



	3. Strange Dreams

Title: Such Sweet Sorrow   
  


Disclaimer: It must be mentioned for legal purposes that I do not own the characters of Gilmore Girls. This is merely my attempt to right a past wrong.   
  


Author's Note: As I've mentioned, this story is the original idea of Jennieln*s and the first part is entirely hers, she has given me permission to continue so this is my poor attempt to live up to the brilliance she began. Hope you all enjoy it! And special thanks to Nel, my beta who while forcing me to see the error of my ways also drives me to be a better writer. Thanks Nellie.   
  


Chapter 2: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream   
  


"William? William, where are you?" Isabella called softly. She didn't want anyone to overhear her. Calling his given name would dismiss her from the staff.   
  


The garden was silent but overhead, dark clouds gathered and growled threateningly. Isabella glanced warily at them before venturing further into the garden. Large hedges created a maze of twists and turns that had become a private hidden world for the two of them concealing them from the Manor house only a hundred yards away. William had left her a note in the vase that they had chosen. Atop the mantle, the beautiful centerpiece had remained empty until he decided to leave the first note there for her to find.   
  


Afterward, she began checking the vase everyday and left her own unsigned notes in response. Today when she checked, she found William's note filled with urgency. She had rushed toward the garden as soon as she could slip away unnoticed.   
  


Dearest Bella, 

Meet me, at our place, as soon as possible. 

W   
  


"William?" she called again in a loud whisper.   
  


She rounded another corner in the garden and found him sitting dejectedly on a bench. His head snapped up at her arrival, the look in his eyes making her stomach drop. "William, what is it? What has happened?" Isabella said softly, rushing to him, her heart started pumping furiously at the dejected pose he struck. He stood at her approach and pulled her into his arms.   
  


"Isabella, I can not take this. They will not listen!" William growled in frustration, hugging her tightly.   
  


"Your parents?" she asked, awkwardly wrapping her arms around his waist in return. 

William had become her closest friend in the two months since that first meeting, and she had become accustomed to his frequent touches. She knew it was the height of improper behavior but she couldn't prevent herself from touching him in return. 

Moments like these when the need for comfort overrode all sense of propriety was still rare. She relished the opportunity to lean against him and offer her support. 

William nodded, his face buried in her hair.   
  


"They insist the wedding will be in six months, as soon as Rachel makes her debut. She's barely out of the schoolroom!" he muttered in disgust.   
  


Isabella pulled him back to look into his eyes. "You mustn't let your parents vex you so. Perhaps you will like Rachel; you do not even know her," Isabella pointed out reasonably. 

He smiled grimly in return.   
  


"She's probably a silly chit, concerned only with the flounces on her gowns and the catching a husband of means so she can buy more flounces! How will I bear the breakfast table each morn? I can not do this, I will go mad!"   
  


"William, you can do anything you wish. I have listened to your opinions for nearly two months now. I know how very intelligent you are. Though it may not be fashionable in the Ton, you can make your own way if you work hard and plan cleverly," she lectured sternly, disregarding his use of inappropriate language towards the girl.   
  


She felt the tension melting away in him, his body relaxing steadily beneath her hands until he was gazing at her with subtle admiration.   
  


"How did I ever become fortunate enough to have found you, Bella?" he touched her hair gently, brushing it away from her face."I want you to come with me, my friend, my Bella," William told her suddenly, grabbing her arms excitedly.   
  


"What?! What are you- I cannot go with you! William!" she said, surprised. Isabella shifted away from his hold unsuccessfully.   
  


"No, Bella, listen to me. Please? I cannot do it without you. We'll be partners. You won't have to clean anyone's house but your own!"   
  


"And where will I live? How do you explain my presence? Am I to become your sister? Your mistress? I may not have much as a maid but I do have pride, William. Would you take that from me?" she turned away unhappily, finally freeing herself from his hold. 

His eyes flashed with confusion and than something hot flared in the now icy blue depths of his eyes.   
  


"I could tell them you're my wife?" William answered, hesitantly. He avoided her gaze and hid the hope he knew was in his eyes.   
  


She took a step back from him and sank onto the bench, staring at him in surprise. 

"Your wife? That isn't clever, William. I thought we were friends."   
  


"We are I mean to say... I don't understand. I was not joking," William frowned, moving closer to her, trying to decipher her mood. He sat down next to her, close, but not close enough for him.   
  


"You don't wish to marry. Ever, you said. Why are you saying this now?" Isabella demanded. 

She was bewildered with millions of thoughts swirling in her mind. Her chest was beginning to hurt with repressed tears.   
  


He was ruining everything. If he said he loved her for real, perhaps she could risk it. But she knew fear motivated this farce of a proposal and she ached with the knowledge of it.   
  


William looked away from her penetrating look as his mind raced with possible arguments to convince her to run away with him. He knew a lifetime with her would never be enough, but he knew she still clung to boundaries society set. 

"Isabella, I told you. I cannot do this without you," he repeated, looking studiously away from her. 

"I feel as though you are the only real person in my life. I will not leave here, without knowing I can't leave you without choices. Would marriage to me be so horrid? You said you care for me as no other," he reminded her gently.   
  


She flinched at his softly spoken words and tried not to hate him for using her tenderness against her. Isabella took a deep breath, swallowing the lump that was choking her. 

"No, William. I will not be saved by you. Not from my poor existence in trade for a loveless marriage to save a friend. What happens if you fall in love? What of the children you spoke so freely of? You would sacrifice it all because of a need to defy your parents' edict? If you need to marry someone, why not Rachel?"   
  


His head swung around and he glared at her. 

"I am not a willful child, throwing tantrums. I am a man capable of making his own decisions and I wish to live my own life. Is that so wrong?"   
  


"Only if you think living your own life must included saving me from mine. I am not your friend so that I may be rescued. I have no wish to be any man's convenience," she spat at him, impassionedly. 

Isabella took another deep breath and calmed herself.   
  


"In these past two months I have felt for the first time that someone, you, saw me as an equal. Not because of monies I have or do not have but simply because of who I am, the mind, the opinions or convictions I hold. I have not had that with anyone since the loss of my parents five years ago. It is a gift far too precious to give away. I won't risk that for a marriage you do not even truly want. I'm sorry William," she told him, sadly.   
  


Standing, she watched him stalk to the edge of their little clearing in the entangled garden and shove his hands into his pockets angrily. Isabella shook her head unhappily and started to walk away when his voice froze her.   
  


"Is that it? Is our friendship over already? Are you leaving me alone, Isabella?"   
  


"No! I want to remain your friend, I will always be your friend if you wish it. I wish your parents would listen to you, but please don't try to punish them and save me in the same moment," she answered wearily. "I do not think you mean to pain me, but you are managing to do so."   
  


William nodded slowly, still not facing her. 

"I won't suggest it again. I'm sorry. Bella, forgive me. I need to ask of you one last favor," he said quietly.   
  


Straining to hear him, she moved a couple steps closer and nearly tripped as he swung around to face her.   
  


William saw her stumble away from him and grimaced at his foolishness. 

He was making a mess of everything all on his own. There wasn't even a need for his parents' interference. Standing there, listening to her lecturing him, anger and sorrow vibrating through her words, he felt shame and desperation wash through him. Not even a thousand harsh words from his parents could do that to him. 

Somehow, he had to convince her not to run away from him. Even so, the past two months had strained his control and he needed her to acknowledge the chemistry that thickened the air with passion between them whenever they met. 

He stared at her, watching her face light slowly, like a burning candle, with hope at his question and regretted that she would probably feel angered all over again by his request.   
  


"I want you to kiss me, Bella. Just once. I have imagined it for so long. I cannot bear it any longer. I won't speak of my parents again, nor Rachel but I need this. Please?" 

Isabella stared at him, surprise widening her eyes as she listened to him pleading with her, sincerity written over his face like one of their treasured books.   
  


"A-a kiss? Why?"   
  


"Just answer, yes or no, Bella. Will you give me this one treasure to me?" he wiped the desperation from his face and repeated his questioned more flatly. 

Staring at her, willing her to give in to him, hiding the hope that flared as she blushed.   
  


"All right I suppose Y-yes." she stammered, watching him with giant frightened eyes.   
  


He crossed the ground over to her instantly and she took a step back before she realized what she was doing and stood her ground. After all her best friend was leaving. And what harm could a kiss do?   
  


She expected him to grab her but he brushed a hand over her hair, gently, as he had done a thousand times before. Inexplicably, she relaxed, leaning into his touch and he smiled down at her.   
  


William stared into her luminous eyes, waiting for a sign that she welcomed his touch, even to the smallest degree. 

He saw her eyes flicker up to his lips and nearly groaned with the need to drown himself in her. Slowly, he leaned forward, touching his lips softly to hers, he saw her eyes widen in surprise and he moved closer to her.   
  


He waited until she relaxed, adding her own slight pressure against his lips before opening his mouth a fraction, inviting her in. He heard her gasp of surprise, and quickly slid his tongue inside her mouth.   
  


He waited, not moving, not daring to breathe, holding his tongue still, inside her mouth, repressing the urge to taste her, to seek her own tongue.   
  


William heard a muffled sigh before he felt a hesitant touch against his tongue, slowly, trying not to startle her he responded with his own flicker of movement and almost lost hold of her as she sank against him.   
  


Allowing himself a half-second of triumph, he gathered her in close in his arms and kissed her as he had dreamed for the past two months, unleashing the passion she stirred inside him.   
  


She slid her tiny hands over his shoulders gripping him tightly as her mouth clung to his and he silently promised her that one day he would not pull away.   
  


Reluctantly, he eased the frenzied kisses, soothing her with softer touches on her face as he pulled out of her arms.   
  


"We have to stop, Bella," he said, between the kisses traveling over her face like rain. 

"I don't wish to stop but we must," he told her breathlessly.   
  


Slowly his words sank into her head and she frowned, eyes closed, as his kisses stopped. Gazing up at him in confusion and wonder, she saw his eyes sparkling back at her with a mixture of happiness and terrible sadness.   
  


"Are you all right?" he asked tenderly. He didn't move her warm hands from his shoulders. His hands wouldn't budge from her hair and slim waist.   
  


"What? Yes, I'm fine," she answered automatically. Her mind beginning to clear the cobwebs his kisses had spun.   
  


He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on the lips, but pulled away almost instantly. 

"I had to stop, I didn't want to scare you. Promise me you will kiss me again and I will let you go," he said, tightening his hold without any promises.   
  


Isabella sighed. Her brain felt like mush and her body felt too heavy to stay upright any longer. She leaned against him, pressing her face against his soft coat. "Is it always this way?" she wondered aloud, mumbling into his clothing.   
  


"Is it what way?" William queried, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.   
  


"Kissing, does it always feel like this? It's as though I've been twirling and twirling around, until my brain can't stop spinning and my heart is racing. I feel so weak, as though I've been ill but my skin feels as if I will burst and go flying off in a thousand directions," she admitted dizzily. She rather felt like she was in a romantic poem, but she couldn't stop her mouth from speaking like this. It was all too much.   
  


William felt his stomach clench at her words and tried to explain how wonderful it was, for him as well. He suddenly felt as though he was sullied by the touch of all the others before her and only now did he begin to have an inkling of what the poets seemed to understand so much better than he.   
  


"Not always, Bella. Only once in my lifetime. Only... with you."   
  


She nodded against his chest, but said nothing, just feeling the importance of it. Isabella was content to be in his arms, listening to his heart pounding beneath her ear. Her heart was racing so quickly, she thought she would collapse. Perhaps it would not be so horrible to collapse in William's arms.   
  


Neither of them noticed the face that peered out darkly at them from behind one of the bushy hedges. Neither saw the way eyes narrowed angrily on the two entwined figures and hatred burned in the black depths.   
  


*************************************************************   
  


"R-R-I-I-I-NG!"   
  


Rory sat up gasping, her chest was squeezing painfully against her rib cage. She sat trembling in her warm bed, waiting for the feeling to fade. The alarm clock rung loudly in her ears and suppressed the urge to smack it.   
  


Slowly, she felt the familiar lethargy invading her body, stealing over the shaky limbs until the trembling subsided.   
  


She dragged herself out of the bed and winced at the painful joints aching throughout her body. It felt like she had just run two marathons, without water.   
  


Rory rubbed a fist over her eyes, yawning broadly as she heard her mother pleading with the coffee maker and sighed heavily.   
  


Shuffling toward the bathroom wearily, she wondered how Tristan was faring.   
  


********************************************************   
  


Hartford   
  


Tristan rolled out of the bed, landing on his feet, breathing heavily.   
  


His entire body was shaking, his muscles clenched for a fight that didn't exist.   
  


Methodically he loosened each set of muscles until his tired body took over and started feeling the sluggishness that was weighing him down.   
  


He groaned as he lifted a hand to rub wearily over his face. Turning, he headed for the shower to drive some of the numbness from his brain and wondered dimly how Rory was coping.   
  
  
  


Chilton   
  


Tristan was already leaning against her locker as she made her way tiredly down the crowded hall.   
  


"Same dream?" Tristan asked when she got close enough to hear him. He shifted off the locker onto someone else's and she reached for the lock.   
  


"Yeah, I guess," Rory nodded tiredly, shoulders slumping.   
  


"We need to figure this out. I'm serious. Can you come over tonight?" Tristan turned sideways, facing her, propped up against the locker.   
  


Rory hesitated, "I don't know"   
  


"Oh, come on, Rory! Do I look like I could do anything at this point?! Look at me, I'm the walking dead. I just want to figure this thing out, that's it, I swear.," Tristan whispered desperately, wary of his friends overhearing him.   
  


Rory nodded slowly in understanding.   
  


"Okay. I'm sorry. Listen, I'll call my mom at lunch. How are we supposed to figure this out, anyway? I don't think my brain'll be much use," she admitted.   
  


"I figured we'd try to find something on the net. We can get together at lunch, go over everything we can think of, write it down and start searching," he shrugged.   
  


"Do you want help with that?" he asked finally, watching Rory struggling to hold her pack and open the locker.   
  


"No, it's fine," she told him even as he reached across her.   
  


Hooking the bag with two fingers on his left hand he straightened and slugged the locker with the flat side of his right. The metal shuddered and popped open. Rory gaped at her locker.   
  


"It never opens for me," she told him thoughtfully, she blinked and smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks."   
  


Tristan lifted her pack and placed it inside, nodding away her quiet gratitude. "We should go, the bells are gonna ring any second."   
  


"Yeah. I mean, hang on a sec. I need my book," she said, reaching into her bag to pull out the English Literature textbook.   
  


He paused a foot away from her and waited until she fell into step beside him to resume walking toward class.   
  


Quietly, they discussed the odd dreams plaguing them, oblivious to their fellow peers, curiosity as to what Tristan DuGrey was doing with Rory Gilmore.   
  


After School   
  


"This is ridiculous. We aren't getting anywhere!" Tristan burst out angrily, glaring angrily at his Mac G4 Cube.   
  


He was sitting at his computer desk, poking away at the keys, while they fruitlessly searched for some minuscule connection to explain what was happening to the two of them.   
  


Rory looked up wearily from her sprawled position next to the coffee table nearby. "Do you want me to try? I mean, my brain isn't squeezed completely dry." she offered.   
  


"What's the point?" he turned, frustration pouring off him in waves.   
  


"I've tried every connection I can think of. William + Isabella, dream interpretations, shared dreams, psychic links within dreams. Hell, I even tried telepathy hoping one of us was dreaming and the other was just getting sucked into it. Nothing!" he rubbed his neck, grimacing. "You have any other suggestions?"   
  


"One," she smiled at the way he slumped dejectedly at her words. "You look exhausted. We've been at this for two hours already. Why don't you take a break?"   
  


He returned her smile wanly but gratefully, nodding slowly.   
  


"Sounds good to me, I've got a kink in my neck from sitting at the computer for so long and my back's killing me. How 'bout I go make us some coffee?"   
  


Rory's head snapped up eagerly. "Coffee?" she repeated hopefully.   
  


Tristan laughed at her pitifully desperate expression and stood, stretching the muscles in his back and in his shoulders. He caught Rory watching him and winked at her, making her frown at him before she looked away.   
  


"Okay, I'll head down to get us some coffee and something to eat. You try to think of new search paths to check out," Tristan instructed her, heading for the door.   
  


"No," Rory answered suddenly. He turned around to frown at her.   
  


"Why not? No, what?" he demanded, a little angry at this reemerging of her fighting him over everything.   
  


"We've searched everything we could for the moment. I think my brain needs a break. Plus, I still have homework to finish, and I bet you do too."   
  


Rory eyed him expectantly as she lifted her own Chemistry textbook to flash at him.   
  


"Oh, yeah uh do you want a lift home?" Tristan asked dully, hiding his own surge of disappointment as she shrugged at him.   
  


"If I could use the computer for a bit I can stay here. I thought we could help each other." Rory looked up, catching a fleeting look of relief cross his face. Why would he be relieved? she wondered curiously. Maybe he's too tired to drive me home...or maybe he just doesn't have a date for tonight and he's afraid he'll be bored, she answered herself, rolling her eyes.   
  


"Sure, stay as long as you like, computer's all yours," Tristan waved his hand toward the desk and smiled warmly at her.   
  


For the first time his smile was open and friendly with none of the usual teasing or seduction behind it and Rory felt her heart quicken before ruthlessly scolding herself. 

"So, you go get the coffee and I'll get started," she instructed crisply.   
  


Tristan saluted her, backing out of the door and into the hallway.   
  


"Yes Ma'am. I'll be back in five," he told her as quietly as he could, closing his bedroom door behind him.   
  


She stood up after he left, relieving some of the stiff muscles in her own back as she wandered around the large room.   
  


No wonder he's such a playboy. His room looks like a hotel suite! she snorted derisively. 

The room was separated into three parts: a bedroom, a living room/work area and the private en-suite bathroom which she hesitated to go near.   
  


The section where his king sized bed was situated a single step higher than the living room, like a smaller bedroom without a door to separate the two spaces. The bed was decorated in colors of burgundy and green. Rory didn't have to look to see that there were probably silk sheets underneath the bed coverings. 

Next to the bed on the left side was a small night table with a phone, lamp, and alarm clock/radio.   
  


To the right of a bed was a large walk-in closet, which she deliberately kept her distance from, half afraid that several supermodels would pop out at any instant. 

But it was the living room which had shocked her when she first entered. 

Instead of the self-indulgent pampering of an expensive hotel, something she expected of Tristan DuGrey, the room was comfortable, functional and simple.   
  


He had a couch and two black Lazyboy overstuffed chairs placed around a plain black coffee table. A small fridge sat on a microwave stand in the corner and a computer desk stood in the opposite corner.   
  


A discreet entertainment center finished off the circle, housing a TV, VCR, stereo, video collection and several thousand CDs- a collection that would shame even Lane. 

While that alone was enough to shock the rest left her speechless. His book collection, while, small and scattered throughout the room contained books she herself, had read, or wanted to read still. An open book lay on the small bedside table where he'd probably put it down last.   
  


She wandered around, noting familiar authors and titles.   
  


Tristan seemed to have collected everything form science fiction to horror novels to biographies and philosophy. When she'd noticed them, laying around, her mouth hung open in shock, he'd simply shrugged carelessly, dismissing them with a simple, "Don't look so shocked. I don't actually read them. I just collect them for show."   
  


She'd let the obvious lie stand, but now she looked closer at them, pulling them out to flip through them, spotting the dog-eared pages of some and she rolled her eyes again. Tristan was such a contradiction.   
  


"Hey?" Tristan called out pushing the door open. He carried two steaming mugs and Rory quickly went to take one from him. She sniffed, inhaling appreciatively before taking a gulp.   
  


"Wait! Rory, it's hot!" Tristan said, alarmed, reaching for the mug quickly.   
  


Hunching her shoulders up she turned away just as fast, protecting the mug as if it were precious.   
  


"No! It's good," she took another big sip, pushing his hand away. "Ah..." she sighed happily.   
  


"You're nuts, you know that? You're going to burn yourself doing that," he admonished, walking over to one of the overstuffed chairs.   
  


"S-h-h you can't speak ill of the coffee. You'll anger the coffee god and he'll punish us," Rory answered sternly, stroking the side of her mug as if it were pained.   
  


Tristan set his mug down on the coffee table.   
  


She ignored his snort and continued. "I didn't think of it before, but should we start on homework or get our own dream work out of the way first?" she asked.   
  


"Dinner."   
  


Tristan flopped into the chair and into the reclining position, propping his feet up of the slide-out footrest. He looked like a big, lazy cat that way.   
  


"What about it?" Rory moved over, claiming the second chair and mimicking his relaxed pose.   
  


"Dinner first. Gretchen's gonna bring it up in a sec. She has to leave soon, but she won't go until she knows I've eaten something," Tristan shrugged.   
  


"She sounds nice. We have a Gretchen, except he's a Luke and he doesn't come to us. We go to him. He runs the diner in Stars Hollow, but he's always checking up to make sure my mom and I eat," Rory explained, comfortably. "Not that he forces us to eat I do that very well on my own."   
  


"Luke, huh? He your mom's boyfriend?" Tristan inquired casually between sips of his coffee.   
  


"No, I think sometimes there's moments when he'd like to be but we depend on him so much. If he and mom got together and it didn't work out, then it'd wreck everything." Rory admitted hesitantly. She had never said that to anybody but Lane.   
  


Tristan stared at her for a moment before nodding. "What about your mom, does she like him?"   
  


"She loves Luke, he's really been the most constant guy in her life but, she can't be in love with him. I mean, she could. But she wouldn't."   
  


Rory sighed, sinking into the luxurious chair.   
  


Again, Tristan watched her silently, carefully weighing his words before speaking. She glanced over at him and saw him watching.   
  


"Sounds like she's afraid to admit she wants him," he told her slowly.   
  


She started to open her mouth to protest and he continued.   
  


" I'm not saying I'm "Dear Abby" or anything, but if I wanted someone I'd just walk up and tell them. No point in playing the game while the other player doesn't even know your playing too. Besides, no guts no glory, right? So you either risk it and potentially find something great, or you don't and then there's no chance of you getting hurt or finding out if it could be great."   
  


Rory stared at him in disbelief until his gaze grew defensive.   
  


"What?" he asked, eyebrows knitting together.   
  


"Who are you? Do you even know Tristan DuGrey? King of Chilton, Mr. I-am-the-best- thing-that'll-ever-happen-to-you-babe-DuGrey?" Rory asked suspiciously.   
  


Tristan grinned wickedly and winked. "So, you have noticed."   
  


This time Rory laughed at his evil leer.   
  


"You're a fraud, DuGrey, spouting nonsense about fear blocking the path of true love. I guess the reason you date every girl who crosses your path because you're searching for true love?" Rory scoffed disdainfully.   
  


Tristan's grin faded slowly and he glanced away.   
  


"You don't know anything about me." he told her coldly.   
  


He turned to look at her, his face, closed, unreadable.   
  


"You know nothing about my life, you don't want to know anything about it. Your happy in your safe little world, where I'm the evil kid at school who torments you but is really a sad, one dimensional villain, that you can throw cruel one-liners at without fear of hurting someone's feelings. Because I'm not real, am I, Mary." he sneered at her. "I don't have emotions and I don't know anything about what it is to be a real person. How do you explain this one, Rory? Sharing the same dreams as me, the evil villain. Am I invading them with my wicked powers? Are you succumbing to my dark seduction?" he laughed contemptuously and she flinched.   
  


"Tristan..." she tried to think of something to say and found her brain frightfully blank. "Its not-I didn't cast you that part, it's the one you're always auditioning for, the part you always play. You want people to see you as more than then the bad guy, stop acting like Darth Vadar and drop the heavy breathing. She lectured. Tristan glared at her for a moment before he smiled slowly.   
  


"Your going to be terrible for my image you know, no heavy breathing, hands off rules, I'll never live it down." he shook his head sadly and she laughed reluctantly.   
  


"Your just as crazy as I am." she muttered, still smiling. "Oh, God, my Mom would probably like you." she bemoaned. Tristan snickered, his anger gone as quickly as it had come.   
  


"Too bad I'm not interested in older women, well..what's your mom look like?"   
  


"Eww, keep your heavy breathing off my Mom!" Rory shrieked, tossing a cushion at him.   
  


"Here we go," another voice entered the room as the door swung open again and Gretchen came in.   
  


Rory sat up causing the chair to swing upright and she flew to her feet. "Is that dinner? God, that looks great. I hope you didn't go to any trouble," said Rory, a little nervously.   
  


Gretchen smiled warmly as she laid the tray of food on the coffee table next to the empty coffee mugs. "No trouble at all hon, I was fixing Tristan's dinner anyway. Easy as pie to make an extra plate. There are always leftovers."   
  


"Doesn't it look delicious, Tristan? Don't you want to thank her for making such a lovely dinner?" Rory asked turning to send him an expectant look.   
  


Gretchen hid her smile as she watched Rory try to force Tristan to be polite. 

Rory couldn't know that with her, Tristan was always respectful, and always kind. 

However, she enjoyed watching the girl make demands of him. So, this is the one, the girl Tristan mentioned in the passing last month.   
  


A Mary, he'd told her, stamped with "Innocent, Pure and Proper" and then nothing. 

At first she was relieved, he was leaving the girl alone, leaving her to her innocence, but he'd grown quieter, spending more time at home, brooding, his laughter growing hollow. 

She should have guessed how the innocence would draw him, moth to the flame. He, who'd been given too much material wealth too fast, and so little guidance or love to retain his own innocence.   
  


Tristan had become a man before he'd ever been a boy and he'd grown wild until her love and discipline became the last wall between the untamed boy he was and the truly horrible man he could become...until now.   
  


Gretchen studied Rory as Tristan glared back to her, muttering his own gratitude resentfully.   
  


She looked like a nice girl, smart, if she was at Chilton without the rich parents. Stubborn, if she could resist Tristan when he was trying to charm. Daring, to push him, demand he act maturely, responsively.   
  


She'll either make him the wonderful man I know is inside him, or destroy the tiny shred I have left, Gretchen reasoned finally, sighing silently at the way fate's fickle hand played.   
  


Gretchen knew she could do nothing to interfere but hesitated still, unwilling to leave the fate of her boy in the hands of stubborn teenage emotions.   
  


Tristan finally stood from his own chair and walked over to the table. "It's great, Gretchen, thanks," he told her honestly, smiling at her.   
  


"You just make sure you eat the whole thing, Tristan Jalen DuGrey. I find you hiding your vegetables again and I'll tan your backside," she warned menacingly, winking her left eye. 

Tristan's cheeks flushed and he glanced at Rory, who was hiding her smile.   
  


"I was five!" he retorted defensively, but he was smiling too..   
  


"And you need your vegetables a lot more now than you did back then, so eat up. You need anything else, you just let me know-but let me know in 15 minutes, because then the kitchen is closed," she told them both, heading out.   
  


Tristan waited until the door shut behind Gretchen to face Rory.   
  


She was still standing there, grinning widely at him.   
  


"I was five!" he repeated, exasperated.   
  


"I didn't say a word," she answered, widening her eyes innocently.   
  


"I hated peas... they looked like shriveled up tennis balls or something," he admitted. 

Rory laughed aloud and he chuckled.   
  


"Gretchen's an evil woman. She just had to bring that up in front of you. I'll never live it down," he sighed.   
  


"Come on, let's eat before she thinks of something else and comes back," he invited, seating himself on the floor beside the table.   
  


Rory crossed her legs and sank down next to him.   
  


Gretchen had fixed sandwiches. Ham and cheese, peanut butter and strawberry jam, sliced fruits and vegetables, a carafe of coffee and two bowls of steaming tomato soup. 

Rory reached for the coffee immediately while Tristan distributed the sandwiches. 

As he worked, he started telling her stories of all the times Gretchen had decided to embarrass him for his own good.   
  


The two of them laughed as they swapped embarrassment stories, finishing dinner quickly before digging out textbooks and paper. Working companionably, next to one another, they exchanged ideas, pointed out errors and challenged theories, settling into a comfortable flow as if it were something always done.   
  


Slowly they began yawning, blinking frequently to force their eyes to stay open, neither one mentioning the hour growing late, until finally Rory leaned back, inadvertently laying her head on Tristan's shoulder, and fell asleep.   
  


Tristan blinked at the sudden weight against his arm, he saw Rory leaning against him and pulled her closer even as he shut his own eyes and drifted off.   
  


********************************************************   
  


Someone was thumping something right under her ear.   
  


Rory grumbled unhappily as she tried to burrow deeper into the warm pillow she was hugging, trying to escape the rhythmic drumming.   
  


The pillow beneath her moved, forcing her to shift again and she tightened her grip even 

as the word penetrated her sleep fogged mind. 

The pillow moved... a pillow doesn't move the thumping...it almost sounds like a..heartbeat.   
  


Slowly, opening one eye she peered at the pillow suspiciously and saw a button. 

She leaned back to look upward and saw a throat above the button and then Tristan's face, in profile as he lay sleeping beneath her.   
  


His chin was turned away, his mouth open slightly as he breathed deeply in his sleep. Hah! Tristan breathes through his mouth when he sleeps, thought Rory blankly, overcome by feelings of sleep.   
  


For a moment, she was caught by the softened features of sleep, without the leer, or exhaustion as of late, hardening his features.   
  


He was quite handsome, she realized with faint surprise. She knew that every girl at Chilton chased him, or at least wanted to, but she wondered how many got to see him like this.   
  


Vulnerable, infinitely more attractive, almost younger. It was as if when he was awake, his innocence was already a thing of the past but in sleep, he was a boy once more. 

Rory stretched out a hand, touching his face gently before she realized what she was doing and snatched it back as if she'd been burned.   
  


A wave of heat poured through her as it sunk in that she was laying on top of him, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing her against him even as he slept. 

What are you doing? Get up! Get out of his arms! Dean! God, you are such an idiot, Rory!   
  


Her brain screamed at her. Slowly, trying not to wake him she tried to unwrap his arms. Tristan's left arm was like a steel trap wrapped around her waist, trapping her against him. As soon as she tried to move, the band tightened, holding her in place until she stopped struggling.   
  


His hand was curled over her left hand, pressing it against his chest an inch from where her head lay.   
  


"Tristan," she whispered, shaking him gently with her left hand. He groaned, pulling her closer.   
  


"Tristan? Wake up," she told him. 

He inhaled, raising her along his chest before slowly opening his eyes, blinking sleepily at 

her.   
  


"Rory" he smiled, lifting his right hand up to brush her hair back, until she froze.   
  


He felt Rory stiffen above him and forced the sleeping form his mind.   
  


"Rory?" he repeated, confused at finding her laying half on top of him.   
  


"We fell asleep," she blurted out, her eyes darting away from his.   
  


"Oh. Right. Sorry," he mumbled, realizing finally how he was holding her and releasing her. She sat up, moving away quickly and he ignored the flood of embarrassed that slid through him.   
  


"How long." he glanced toward the clock and blinked again. 

"Dammit, Rory. It's almost ten thirty. I better get you home before your mom comes after me with a shotgun."   
  


"I better call her. I didn't tell her exactly, that I'd be here, with you." 

Rory flushed guiltily as Tristan frowned at her. "I told her I had an assignment to work on and I was going to my partner's house to work on it. I didn't want to explain everything over the phone, and you don't know my mom it's scary how her mind works plus she sorta...knows about you," Rory finished lamely, standing up slowly and heading towards Tristan's phone on his night table.   
  


"She knows what about me? Why, exactly, couldn't you tell her you were here?" Tristan asked, rising to his feet.   
  


"She knows your name. I told her about you bugging me. She'd want to know why I was coming here, if we had a chaperone, if I wanted to get out of it, why I didn't want to get out of it. I didn't want to go into the whole thing," Rory insisted.   
  


Then she stopped. She didn't have to explain to Tristan, of all people. 

Tristan stretched his stiff muscles, still frowning vaguely.   
  


"Call her, then let her know I'm bringing you back. You better mention that we fell asleep studying or she'll have harder questions than that. You're going to have to think of something to tell her until we get this sorted out," he reminded her.   
  


Rory nodded.   
  


"I know, okay." Rory felt a little cranky. He was ordering her around. She hated to be ordered around.   
  


Tristan rubbed the back of his neck and headed toward the bathroom.   
  


He paused halfway there and turned to look at Rory. She was gathering her books and shoving them into her pack until she heard him stop for a second. She looked up questioningly, and he frowned.   
  


"Did you dream?" he asked suddenly.   
  


"What? No. No, I didn't. I mean I don't remember anything, but I feel like I actually slept this time. You didn't dream, either?" she looked surprised, hopeful.   
  


He shook his head.   
  


"No. Nothing. Maybe it's over," he suggested.   
  


"Maybe," Rory echoed quietly.   
  


They stared at each other a moment later before Tristan turned away. Rory picked up the phone. 


	4. Sleeping Beauty

  
  


Such Sweet Sorrow 

Disclaimer: It must be stated for legal purposes, that I do not, in any way, own the characters of Gilmore Girls. I am simply pirating them for amusement, not profit.   
  


Author*s Note: Thanks to everyone, for the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry about any confusion over the different POV's, that's just the way this one has to be done! I'll try to keep it as simple as possible. This story will be finished in 9 parts at the most, so enjoy and I'll try to have it finished in the next month. 

  
  
  
  


Chapter Four: Sleeping Beauty   
  


"Where have you been, Isabella?" demanded Isabella's cousin, Alice, as Isabella slipped in the front door.   
  


Isabella's head snapped up, startled by her cousin's accusing demeanor. I-I was at work." she lied, hesitantly.   
  


"Liar! Jack saw you! He told me you have allowed the viscount's son, liberties only a husband should be permitted!" Alice shrieked, striding forward and smacking her.   
  


Isabella flew backward at the force of her cousin's anger and gasped fearfully.   
  


Her cousin towered over her, breathing heavily, her features pulled taut by fury. "I won't have a wanton in my house! Jack Tremain has asked permission to marry you, to save your reputation.." Alice continued calmly as Isabella pushed to her feet, shaking her head in denial. "You Will marry him or I will send you away this very day, to a workhouse." she finished sharply.   
  


"No! I cannot marry him, I do not even know him!" Isabella protested horrified.   
  


Her cousin ignored the protest as if it had never been uttered.   
  


"Please-do not do this. I have not done anything! William is my friend." Isabella insisted and drew back instantly as her cousin's expression grew stormy once again.   
  


"William?" she repeated in a horrified whisper. "You call him by his given name?" Alice repeated in a horrified whisper. "A man who is not your relation nor your husband. You call him by his given name?" her hand flew again and cracked loudly against Isabella's cheek.   
  


"Stop..please?" Isabella's head spun at this latest attack and she pleaded weakly, holding up a hand to shield herself.   
  


"It will look better if you tell his lordship's son that you have been promised to another for some time and that you regret deceiving him. You will tell him that you are honoring your vows as he should his." Alice insisted as Isabella lay at her feet. "Heed my words, child, if you do not end this vile association, I will." 

With that Alice finally turned, sweeping from the room, confidently and Isabella fell weakly to the cold ground, curled into a ball protectively.,The tears that burned behind her eyes refused to fall, refusing to offer her relief from the pain that stabbed through her body and her heart. Alice was the only real family she had. Her mother's cousin had reluctantly agreed to take her in at her parent's death, five years previously. Isabella tried to please her but Alice was nothing like her cousin, Isabella's mother who had warm and loving. Alice knew only that she had another mouth to feed and her husband barely tolerated his niece's presence. It was the only home she had left, if her cousin sent her away she would have nothing, no one in the world left to care for her. She would be forced out into the world without a shilling or reference to gain employment elsewhere, and nowhere to live. Finally, she uncurled her stiffened body and pulled herself to her feet.   
  


Slowly she made her way upstairs wincing at the aches, as her body screamed at her. Once safely locked behind her bedroom door, she painfully assessed her sore body, inadvertently spotting William's home in the distant reflection of the tiny mirror. 

"Oh William..what am I to do?" she whispered, quietly.   
  


The Manor   
  


William flung threw himself onto his bed, grinning like a madman, up at the ceiling. 

Isabella was slowly coming to accept this thing this connection between them. He had made considerable progress since that first kiss, a month ago, and now he finally felt close to winning her heart. 

She had become his ray of sunlight in the vast darkness his world was rapidly becoming. 

His parent's urged him to go to London, to 'enjoy the spoils of youth' before his marriage to the ever biddable Rachael. He snorted in contempt.   
  


The battles with them were beginning to strain his happiness with Isabella until only the knowledge that she would soon relent from her stubborn insistence and accept his offer of marriage kept him from screaming the truth at them. 

The knock at the door, brought him off the bed, the smile wiped away instantly. 

It was not Isabella. He had seen her home, well, almost home, nearly a half hour ago and his little Bella was much too circumspect to visit him in his rooms. 

He swung open the door, startling the young maid standing there. He smiled, and leaned against the frame. "Yes?" he inquired silkily.   
  


"Uh-oh Uh-oh." she started to back away, than froze.. "My Lord!" she blurted out, "Your parents wish to speak to you, horrified by her breach of protocol.   
  


"It's alright-" he searched his mind for a name, trying to put her at ease but her eyes grew wider and he simply nodded.   
  


She backed away like a scared rabbit facing a wolf and he repressed the laugh that threatened to overcome him. 

He knew he shouldn't tease the household staff, as Isabella wouldn't like it and having fallen for her he was all to aware of the cruelty staff endured. Especially the attractive young girls like Isabella. These were girls he had also misused, once upon a time, although no longer. 

His good mood evaporated and he felt his body tensing. His parents. Again. He was going to have to warn them to easy their interference. 

William left his room and began the trek downstairs into one of his parent's many parlors. 

The house was silent, as always when one of these scenes was staged. Inevitably, the staff hid to avoid their master's wrath once the shouting began.   
  


"You asked to see me?" he asked, entering the Blue Parlor and striding to one of the chairs. This visit, much like the one of the day they informed him of his pending marriage, they sat together, forming a solid force against him. 

Not this time! He thought sardonically. He might have lost that battle but this time he had a secret weapon, his love for Bella, and nothing could touch .   
  


"William. We are very disappointed in you,." his father said, without a trace of emotion in his voice.   
  


William glanced away fighting the urge to grin and lift a brow as if to say, "so?" 

"Your mother and I asked you to take yourself off to London to dally until the wedding. You should not risk an association with the locals mere months before the wedding."lectured his father, his voice deep and without care as usual.   
  


"And really, dear, she is quite indiscreet,."his mother broke in you. and sighed.. "Another maid, William? I swear, it is your life's work to see me clean my own home."   
  


"Wh-What?" .sputtered William, attempting to feign ignorance.   
  


"This..Elisabeth or whichever, the one with whom you've been carrying on. Son, I do realize your a young man but you must break it off. It is simply too close to the wedding and if Rachael's father were to hear of it he would take it as a personal affront. Just tell this-maid of yours that your honoring your promises elsewhere and give her a little jewel or something of the like, to ensure her silence."his father walked over to William's chair, placing a hand on the armrest to tower over him. He expected William to look up with the petulant expression he always wore when he was being denied something but when William's head rose, is eyes were ice cold.   
  


"Her name is not Elizabeth and I am not dallying before the wedding with yet another maid .Rachael will never be my wife. Ever. If her father does not approve he may have my permission to launch himself bottom over barrel into the Thymes!" William's voice shook with repressed violence as he slowly rose to his feet. "I am not going to stop seeing her and if you continue to interfere in My life I will go to Rachael's father and tell him everything, myself."   
  


His mother gasped in shock at her son's anger but his father merely raised an eyebrow at his son's outburst, studying him intently   
  


"You obviously care for this girl, this maid you see." remarked the older man thoughtfully. His father was never an effusive man, whatever warmth he felt it was rarely seen by his family but he was never more dangerous than when he was coldly eyeing a person as a problem to be solved.   
  


A frisson of fear ran through him as he silently watched his father's pensive expression.   
  


"She must live nearby, with her family? Perhaps even on our land? They probably depend on her wages, on our goodwill." his father added, his voice soft as if he were simply stating observations and not uttering threats. 

William froze."What are you saying?"" he rasped quietly. He wanted to demand his father stop. Wanted to insist he never threaten Isabella or her family but fear was choking him. 

"I have no desire to harm good people simply because I have a wayward son, who will not listen to reason,." His father replied easily, walking back to his seat beside his prim wife.   
  


William turned to look toward the window, sitting down once more, his knees suddenly failing him. He saw the beginning of the garden beyond the Manor house, where he had met Isabella and heard his father's threats echoing in his mind.   
  


Feverishly he searched for some way out of the noose they'd tightened around his neck. 

There was none. 

He felt desperation grip his heart and pushed it aside quickly, burying it and the fear that drove it, deep within himself before he turned to face his parents. 

They were watching him with a fixated gaze that made him think of cobras watching their prey, daring it to run, all the while knowing they would strike regardless.   
  


"You win." he answered flatly, at last standing once more.." He saw his mother smile happily and felt the lock on his emotions rattle precariously. "I will do as you ask, but know this; I will never forgive you for doing this. I give you my word of honor on that."   
  


"William, your you are being foolish!" his mother cried, reaching toward him.   
  


He ignored her hand and his father's angry gaze, turning heel to leave them.   
  


"You will marry Rachael?" his father persisted.   
  


William paused, not turning to look at them again. "I will, but she will only gain my name. Our marriage bed will be as cold and barren as this house. There will be no heir to carry on this farce of a family. Explain that to her father."   
  


"You'll regret saying these things,."his father shouted angrily.   
  


"Darling it will be a splendid match! Wait until you see her, she's truly lovely." his mother protested,   
  


"You will regret far more than I. This will be the perfect match alright.! A match made in hell." William spat as he walked out   
  


******************************************************   
  


Tristan was waiting by Rory's locker again as she approached, This time he sat beneath the steel cube, his head leaning back against the cold metal, his eyes screwed shut.   
  


"Tristan?" she called out wearily stopping beside his bent frame.   
  


He eyes blinked open and she could see they were slightly red, dark circles beneath them, a familiar look since her own eyes had reflected back a similar sight in this morning's mirror.   
  


"You look as bad as I feel." he mutter, uncurling slowly and shoving himself to his feet.   
  


"Thanks." she answered drily, reaching past him to the lock. 

Tristan waited patiently until she had spun the dial to enter the combination and futilely attempted to yank the metal door open. He let her try twice before finally pulling her hand away and punching the locker as he had the day before. Once again the metal obediently shuddered and popped open. She rolled her eyes at him as he gestured to the open locker with a half-hearted smirk.   
  


"Did you dream last night?"" she asked as she put her pack inside the locker, pulling out the binder and textbook for her first class.   
  


"Yeah." he answered quietly. "I don't remember it very clearly except.." he paused and she looked up at him, her own eyes haunted. 

"Something really bad happened." she finished, nodding slowly, her hair falling in her face.   
  


Tristan nodded "I don't even remember what it was, exactly, but I wanted to kill someone when I woke up this morning and than.."he looked away.   
  


"I wanted to cry. Almost did except my Mom would have freaked. No way would she let me come to school if I was hysterical over some dream." Rory admitted with a small shrug. "Even if I had mid-terms."   
  


"I felt-that way too, I just haven't done it in a long time." he told her quietly with a self-deprecating smile. 

Tristan looked away uncomfortably. "What about now? You feel half as exhausted as I look?"   
  


Rory looked him over, noting the lack of coordination to his usual sexily rumbled bed head hairdo. As if, instead of styling it to look that way, he had simply woken with it like that and hadn't bothered to fix it. His tie was looser than usual, barely tied and she knew his first period teacher would call him on it, but despite the exhaustion that fairly radiated from him he still maintained his King of Chilton air effectively.   
  


"You don't look half as awful as I feel,." she accused, pointing at him.   
  


He slowly smiled at her, mock-seductively. "I just have more practice at looking smugly exhausted instead of just over-tired. There's a difference."   
  


Rory rolled her eyes at him again, watching as people started coming down the hallways.   
  


"Thanks again for that nightmarish information. Really Tristan I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you around to fill my shudder quotient of the day."   
  


"I could make you shudder for much better- what are you doing?" he asked as she abruptly shoved her books back in the locker and reached for his tie.   
  


"Strangling you with your own tie, what does it look like I'm doing?" she retorted, pushing aside the hand he raise to ward her off. Rory stepped closer, cocking her head sideways to study him as she pulled on the ends, until the knot slowly slithered upward   
  


Tristan lifted his chin, giving Rory room to move the tie without threatening his breathing space and smiled at her attempts at civilizing him. 

. 

"Not too tight." he warned lightly. He glanced down with his eyes and caught Rory shooting him an exasperated glare. He chuckled at her disgruntled look but allowed her to continue, as she pulled the tie up to his shirt collar, she left the top button undone leaving him some breathing room and smoothed the collar into place. She stepped back and he lowered his chin again.   
  


"Am I done? Should I un-tuck my shirt so you can tuck it to regulation standards?" he asked smoothly, making her glare at him in annoyance. 

"Your such a creep, Tristan. I was only trying to do you a favor and not that kind of favor. You know, Jenkins would have had a freaked if he saw you like that." She waved a hand at him and he grabbed it.   
  


He held the hand as she tried to yank it back until she turned to face him again. "I know. I was going to fix it before class." he told her, he saw her cheeks flush with embarrassment and sighed. "Thank you for doing it for me. Believe it or not I hate these things, tying them myself is sorta like tying my own noose so I really liked not having to do it. Really, Rory." he told her sincerely, she pulled her hand away and nodded, avoiding his gaze.   
  


"Your welcome." she muttered quickly, reaching for her books again.   
  


"It meant the world..to me." he sniffed dramatically. "I don't think I'll ever forget it-"he sniffed again loudly and she rolled her eyes at him as she closed her locker."Actually, I kinda thought you were going to drag me down the hall like a Tristan leash or something." he laughed at her scrunched up expression.   
  


"Well you might be a sick puppy but I'm not claiming ownership." she reminded him lightly, smiling.   
  


Silence shimmered between them as both of them thought about what she had just said. Tristan looked away, starring intently down the hallway while Rory felt her conscience pinch her.   
  


, Stupid, why did you have to say that? she thought, chiding herself. But then again, it's just Tristan, and why am I overreacting to this?. Another voice sneered. A voice that sounded remarkably like her mother's evil voice. Oh I've finally lost it. I have my Mother's voice in my HEAD! Rory groaned. 

Tristan heard Rory groan and watched her drop her head forward, smacking it against the locker she had closed.   
  


"Hey!" he darted forward and grabbed her shoulders."You okay?" he demanded.   
  


"I'm fine. I just realized how crazy I am,"Rory told him wearily.   
  


"You're not crazy, your probably over-tired and bordering on serious sleep deprivation. Or non-dream sleep deprivation,." Tristan comforted as he rubbed his thumb softly over the red spot where she hit the locker.   
  


"Umm.Yeah," she sighed, "Tired." Rory told him leaning against the cool metal of the lockers in the sparsely populated hallway. Tristan sighed, and ran his left hand through the strands of Rory's hair. Rory's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. He turned back around to look at her and realized where his hand was, dropping it quickly as if it burned him.   
  


"Sorry. I'm exhausted." he muttered, wordlessly turning toward class, shaking his head at himself.   
  


Rory quickly spun the dial to lock her locker shut and moved to follow him, she hesitated a moment, wondering why she was rushing to catch up to him when he suddenly stopped and glanced back at her.   
  


.He waited for her to reach his side patiently, it didn't matter to him if they were late to class, if she wanted to spend the rest of the day here in the middle of the hallway that would be fine with him too but he knew she would insist that they couldn't miss class. Exhaustion was hardly a good enough reason for her to skip a single precious second of the mind-numbing Chilton experience. He shook his head at her innocence while ruefully admitting to himself that he liked Rory the way she was.   
  


"Maybe we didn't dream because it was the still early, close to the afternoon?" Rory suggested when she caught up with him. 

. He shook his head.   
  


"Tried that one already."   
  


"Me too actually. I don't get it, were we finally too tired to dream? I feel ten times worse today than yesterday morning. Was it something we ate? Did Gretchen give us a dreamless sleep drug or magical food product?" Rory demanded quietly, wary of the other student's wandering the hallways, chatting with each other, applying make-up and stashing books in their lockers.   
  


"I doubt it. She would have mentioned it to me by now. She's been kinda worried about the dreams, we've been having,."" he admitted, shrugging.   
  


Rory glanced ahead and saw her classroom door a couple feet away, people already filing in and stopped, grabbing hold of Tristan's blazer. "This is me. Maybe we both have psychological disorders?" Rory suggest brightly as Tristan paused beside her. " I'm a total schizo, and you're manic-depressive. And it would explain a lot of things about you," she added, teasingly.   
  


"Har, Har. Rory, I don't really think that's better than a magical food product."   
  


"Hey, just trying to help. So, can you think of any reason we wouldn't have dreamed? A non-crazy idea I mean?" Rory stared at him expectantly and he sighed.   
  


"I don't know, Rory." he shook his head. "We were together." he suggested.   
  


Rory stared at him, in surprise. "That can't be it. Just because we slept.." she glanced around noticing several interested stares and lowered her voice. "Because we slept next to each other? It's weird and..kinda cheesy. It doesn't work when my Mom sleeps beside me."   
  


"I don't know Rory. I don't understand this any better than you do. It's the only thing I can think of. I've got to go, the bells gonna ring and you need to get in there." Tristan warned, nodding toward her classroom door. The hallway was slowly emptying and he knew they only had a few moments before they would both get in trouble.   
  


"I know, sorry. I don't want to make you late. You should go." she told him, letting go of his blazer before she even realized she was still holding onto it.   
  


"Look, why couldn't it be that we were together. We're having the same dreams, how normal is that? There's gotta be some kind of connection. We'll just try it again. Tonight, my place after school?" he started backing away.   
  


"Ah well, I'll have to call my mom," Rory acceded suddenly.   
  


"Deal. I'll meet you later." he told her quickly, setting her in the open doorway.   
  


"Are you joining us Miss Gilmore?" Ms. Lewis inquired drily from inside. Several students were straining to watch the two sworn enemies talking by the open door.   
  


"How about we hit Starbucks first?" Tristan asked walking backwards away from the bewildered girl, grinning, obviously knowing that she wouldn't say no, boyfriend or not.   
  


"Coffee?!" Rory questioned immediately, she heard him laugh as she turned to enter the classroom and realized Tristan had used her weakness against her to get his own way. Damn! Note to self: Do not give in to Tristan just because he says the magic word! She ignored the looks of her classmates that ranged from curiosity, petty jealousy, leering and from Paris an obvious and seething glare.   
  


After School, Tristan's House 

The two of them had been greeted warmly by Gretchen as soon as they walked into the kitchen looking for a quick snack. She handed them both a handful of chocolate cookies and told them she would start on dinner shortly. 

Rory shot Tristan a worried look, which he correctly interpreted to mean she was afraid Gretchen would see the two of them sleeping together in the sense that was Not and nodded to let her know he got it.   
  


"It's okay, Gretchen, these'll be fine for a while. We have a really important project to work on so I don't want to be disturbed for any reason. We'll come down to dinner as soon as we get hungry,." he told her easily. He saw Gretchen's eyes flash, she darted a quick look toward Rory and he knew she was wondering if Rory was going upstairs to his bedroom for more than homework. Since he couldn't tell her the truth he bit back the angry protest that formed.   
  


" You go ahead than, I'll make something that'll keep and stick it in the fridge." Gretchen answered, finally.   
  


He nodded and gestured for Rory to proceed him and moved to follow her. Just as he reached the door he felt a hand snag his collar and drag him up short. "Go ahead, Rory I'll be right there,." he called out.   
  


"You better not do anything with that girl that I wouldn't skin you alive for doing. You said she's a good girl, and she better stay that way !" Gretchen threatened.   
  


He shrugged loose of her hold and turned to look at her. "I'm not going to do anything to her." He felt a little anger that she had even suggested it. "All of a sudden I'm what? The devil? I am the seducer of innocents, Gretchen? Rory makes her own choices so butt out."   
  


"You listen to me, Mr. No-girl-can-resist-me Dugrey. I know she's something special but something more than homework's going on up there and don't think your fooling me none." Gretchen crossed her arms and stared at him intently. 

Tristan felt his anger slipping away, washed aside by the wave of cold numbness that he was so damnably used to. When he looked back up at her his eyes were cool, remote, mocking. "I think your forgetting a couple things Gretchen. If I want the little Mary I can take her anywhere, I have my Gold card in my wallet, if I wanted I could sweep her away to a five-star presidential suite in a New York chain hotel." he laughed, bitterly "I could even have the honeymoon suite. Rory is the only one who gets to make a choice." he paused a moment. He saw Gretchen draw back, hurt by his words, and regretted that he couldn't seem to find the place inside of himself that could feel ashamed. Instead he continued grimly. "You don't have to worry, my little Mary isn't a fool she knows better than to let this devil anywhere near her. Right now I'm the means to an end, when she doesn't need me anymore she'll wipe her dainty little feet on me and walk away, her head up proud. Every bit the innocent little Mary she walked into Chilton as."   
  


"Tristan...I just thought....I know you think she can bring some light into your life, I don't want you-" Gretchen protested.   
  


"Dragging her into Hell with me instead?" he finished calmly. "Don't worry, I already told you. She know's I'm the bad guy and like all good bad guys I may stalk the beautiful innocent but in the end I know I'll go back to my dark little cell while her and her hero ride off. Now, if there's nothing else, I have to go put on the scene where I lead the trusting little lamb into my lair with false good intentions." Tristan sneered at her and walked out.   
  


Gretchen sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Her chest hurt where her heart had taken several direct hits from Tristan's icy words. 

She knew it was his way, lashing out when someone hurt him, drawing the cold into him until he was numb to any hurt. The battle between the two of them seemed to be easing but the battle inside himself was tearing at him. The boy she fought for, wanted so badly, to find some peace, to find some place where he didn't have to be Tristan Dugrey; heir to the fortunes, company, expectations. Tristan, the boy, just wanted this girl to like him, to give him the chance to prove he could be someone else, someone she could like. The other half of him, the side his parents 'groomed' was frozen, uncaring, he wanted Rory only because he couldn't have her and if she slipped even once he would use her and contemptuously toss her aside because by then the boy would have lost the will to fight. Gretchen got up from her chair quietly, and took a quick glance towards the stairs. She mentally prayed that Tristan would be the boy she knew. 

Tristan opened the bedroom door, quietly, slipping inside. He saw Rory leaning over his computer 

"Everything okay?." he asked, shutting the door tight behind him and unobtrusively turning the lock.   
  


"Oh! Tristan! You scared me. Sorry, um, I was just checking my email, you mind?" she gestured to the computer.   
  


He shrugged."Help yourself. What's mine is yours for the taking,."he answered, with a smirk. He saw her brow knit together unhappily.   
  


"Is something wrong?" she asked finally, turning to face him completely.   
  


He ignore her question as he dumped his pack on one of the chairs and headed for his closet. 

"I'm going to get more comfortable, would you like me to find something for you to change into?" he asked politely.   
  


"No, thanks, Okay, Tristan, stop for just a second. Your talking like your a Stepford Wife or something. What just happened downstairs that I don't know about?"" Rory repeated following him.   
  


He opened the closet doors and flicked through the hangers. He grabbed a soft Navy T-shirt and grey jogging pants for himself before snagging a white T-shirt for 

Rory followed him to the closet door. 

He turned to look at her and held up the shirt. "How's this? I think I have a pair of draw-string pajama bottoms around her someplace an aunt bought me one year, they might fit. You sure don't want anything to change into, if we're going to be sleeping?"   
  


"Hey stop." Rory said, moving closer to stand directly in front of him. "Did Gretchen say something? Is she mad about dinner or..I could tell her I'm making you work without food until we finish this project Rory said, moving closer to stand directly in front of him. "Cause your acting all..weird." she shrugged helplessly and he felt the ice crack   
  


"It's nothing. She just thinks I'm leading you to your doom. Come up to see my etchings, welcome to my parlor, want some candy little girl." he recited softly.   
  


"She probably just wants to protect you, I come off as crazy sometimes. People are afraid of me. Actually, they're afraid of my mom, so I just get tucked into that crazy package. No really, my mom and I have this whole reputation going in Stars Hollow. The Insane Gilmore Girls. Kids are afraid to trick or treat at my house, they run away, crying. " Rory told him earnestly and despite himself he felt himself smile.   
  


"Cut it out." he told her, trying to hold onto his numbness.   
  


"No, why should I? It took you a month to learn my name and that's only an alias I gave you because I was afraid the asylum people would catch on. I shouldn't even be telling you all these things, if my mom asks, you don't know anything.? And if you did know anything, you couldn't tell anyone because you have laryngitis and she doesn't have to worry because you also have an extreme case of amnesia." Rory answered quickly "Whew! I'm glad we got that covered. Remember, you didn't hear that from me," Rory warned. "So you've got laryngitis, or amnesia, and you don't even know me."   
  


Tristan laughed, suddenly at her antics and felt the icy calm melt.   
  


"I don't know, Mary, I'm starting to wonder if your telling truth. You are possibly the only girl ever have resisted my endless charms," he told her, giving her a sideways look.   
  


"You've got Dugrey charm? Can you let me know when it comes up again? I think I might have missed it." Rory mocked. 

"Oh, a direct hit.Ouch. I'm wounded! Stab me in the heart, why don't you?" Tristan answered dramatically. He fell backward onto the bed and lay unmoving.   
  


"Okay, heartbreak kid. I can still check my email, right?" Rory told him.   
  


"No," he teased. "That was only for those five minutes, so now it's wasted." Tristan grabbed his change of clothes, and gestured toward the bathroom.   
  


"Thanks. I might have my mom's jogging pants somewhere in my backpack. So I'll change whenever your through."   
  


"Kay. I'll be in there, if you need me, to you know, be your willing slave," he grinned, and walked into the bathroom and clicked the lock.   
  


Rory eyed the door speculatively before opening up her backpack and finding the jogging pants. She tugged off her shoes and tights, quickly slipping into the comfy pants, silently thanking her mother for putting those in there in case she got cold on the bus. Rory pulled her Chilton blazer and light blue shirt off and quickly yanked Tristan's T-shirt over her head.   
  


She folded all her clothes together carefully, and slipped them into her backpack. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was 6:48 PM. Rory went to the end of Tristan's rooms, pulling down the thick blinds, cloaking the room in darkness. It left only enough light to lead a path to his large bed.   
  


Rory climbed into it, pulling the covers over herself and pushing pillows into the middle of the mattress, silently thanking the maker of large beds. She wasn't going to make any mistakes tonight.   
  


******************************************************** 

He felt something hot warming his ear.   
  


He reached up to brush it away and encountered warm flesh. 

His sleep-filled mind remained blank as he touched the soft skin gently. His mind cleared as he suddenly realized it was a girl's skin. Very good, Tristan, his brain mocked fuzzily.   
  


His arm was pinned beneath someone and he felt the pins and needles as he experimentally tried to wiggle his fingers.   
  


Something silky brushed the tips of his other hand, and a moment later his brain formed the image of long brown hair, big blue eyes, warm skin. Rory?   
  


At least, he hoped it was.   
  


He dragged his eyes open, blinking away the grittiness of sleep and glanced down. Rory was curled along side him. Her head was resting on a pillow directly on his right side, the rest of her body barely touching him. She was close enough for him to feel her radiating warmth, but not close enough to be pressed against him.   
  


In his sleep he had draped an arm over her, holding her close by. One of legs was laying across his, pinning him in place and Tristan felt a smug smile creep across his face. In her sleep you just can't keep her hands-er-legs off me. Nice. Hell that's beyond nice.. 

Slowly he shifted, turning onto his side to face her, without dislodging the leg she had slung over him. 

. 

It had worked, because Rory simply slept, that hair all over the place and those eyelashes streaking her upper cheeks with velvety blackness, and that person not unintentionally accidentally oops pressed against him. She frowned unhappily, huffing indignantly in her sleep as her head lower as he pulled his arm out from beneath her. Tristan waited cautiously, prepared to turn over on his back in case she woke up. Satisfied that she wouldn't stir he settled in to watch her sleep.   
  


He didn't know what it was about her that drew him. He was completely baffled as to why he felt the need to look at her, all the time. She was pretty, for a Mary, but not the type of overblown beauty that usually appealed to him. She was too smart, for one, he frowned. . She wouldn't laugh at his jokes, or pander to his ego in any sort of way. This girl blithely ignored him or repeatedly shot him down, challenging him to change but in the indifferent way that could hurt him the most. He really didn't know why he wasted his time, except....Something about her drew his gaze even when he swore he wouldn't watch her, wouldn't care.He looked for her in the hallways, caught glimpses of her at lunch, hung out by the car until he saw her board the bus to Stars Hollow. Now she was in his dreams, and in his bed, and still farther away than he would ever wish her to be.   
  


He snorted ruefully and reached out, tracing the side of her face with his fingertips. 

She sighed in her sleep, turning her head slightly into his touch. He felt a clenching in his stomach that became a knowing ache. He wanted to kiss her. Just once. He wanted to shove his lips upon her and make her love him, make her feel what he felt. And then he wanted to kiss her eyelids and whisper incredibly stupid things into her ear about love and flowers and poetry. He promised silently. One touch. One Kiss. If she were awake she would probably shove him off the bed, she was always rejecting him.   
  


With the sudden thought, Tristan stilled his stroking hand and felt bitterness stir inside him and hardened his heart. Rory might reject him when she was awake, but what about when she was sleeping?   
  


He leaned closer, slowly, careful not to disturb her until his lips touched hers. Tristan closed his eyes, savoring the softness of her skin. It was too much to even keep them open, because his heart was aching and his hormones were raging and his mind was blissfully void of all the reasons he knew so well why he shouldn't. He opened his mouth to taste her and feeling a shudder of heat and hunger lick through him.   
  


Rory came to consciousness a few seconds later, something warm and wet on her lips. Something was touching her lips. Rory opened her eyes with a flutter and saw Tristan leaning over her. His eyes were closed shut and suddenly she recognized the pressure against her lips, the moist touch, the oddly thrilling something. She felt his lips touch hers again .and her eyes closed automatically.   
  


Stop it! Stop him! Come on, Rory stop him! Her brain flashed but a split second later another voice whispered inside her. Just Once??   
  


She ruthlessly told the first voice to shut the Hell up and gave in to the fire that was beginning to flame inside her. . I just want to know what all those other girls see in him. I just want to feel whatever it is he makes them feel so they keep wanting him even when he's breaking their hearts. Rory opened her mouth, tilting her head up to meet his kisses.   
  


Tristan felt Rory move beneath him and his brain screamed at him wanting so badly to get off the bed and be good but so badly wanting to be hers. He felt her mouth open, pressing against his and he pressed back into her. 

The ache was beginning to spread, burning through him and making his mind a pile of ashes. He couldn't remember why it was a bad idea, why he shouldn't be kissing Rory, holding Rory like this when she was finally there, finally kissing him back. Tristan kissed her fiercely. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, couldn't stop; he could only touch her hair, cup her face and finally slip a hand beneath the oversize T-shirt to caress the silky skin beneath. Her skin was so warm that it burned his hand, promising more than intellectual banter. Rory's skin was hot to the touch and he groaned against her mouth, his hand slipping upward. 

Rory felt his hand slide under her shirt, gently touching the skin along her mid-drift and felt her brain's neon light flip on, flashing DANGER! DANGER! At her. She ignored it until his hand slipped higher, and then broke apart from his lips, roughly, suddenly aware of how stupid she was being. She started to pull away but Tristan kissed along her jaw mumbling at her.   
  


"Tristan stop." she told him breathlessly, pressing against his shoulders. He ignored her quiet voice, raising up to kiss her mouth again, his hand touching the underside of her bra and she panicked.   
  


"Tristan, Stop it!" she shouted, shoving him hard in her panic. 

Tristan felt Rory shove at his shoulders and his fevered brain protested. No, not yet! Not yet, damn it! He leaned up to kiss her mouth, hoping to drag her back into the fire that was burning him, and felt Rory shove him harder away from her, shouting at him. He lost his balance, slipping off the side of the bed and smacking the back of his head against the corner of the dresser.   
  


"Damn it, Rory!" Tristan shouted, rubbing his throbbing head.   
  


Rory hopped off the bed and headed for the bathroom. "Damn you, Tristan,! You promised!" she grabbed her backpack, stalking away from him as he called out to her.   
  


"Rory. Rory wait! I didn't mean it! Shit! I didn't even know what I was doing!" he shouted after her in frustration.   
  


Rory turned back, starring at him, confusion and hurt warring across her lovely features. "Just take me home." she told him finally.   
  


***************************************************************   
  


He drove her home in silence, glancing toward her frequently but she simply stared out her window, ignoring his presence.   
  


Tristan frowned, trying to think of something to say. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, even though he wasn't. Couldn't be. Those few moments with Rory, holding her, kissing her were the most vivid moments he'd ever experienced. He had felt more with Rory's kiss than he had felt even while messing around with other girls. It made him angry to think she hadn't felt it, hadn't known what he was feeling.   
  


He'd known who he was holding as soon as his brain had slid from sleep into consciousness. He'd known whom he was kissing, who was returning his kisses. And who was probably more asleep than awake and dreaming of her boyfriend! He berated silently as he pulled in front of her house, and that knowledge ate at him. 

Rory was slipping from the car even as he shoved the gearshift into park and cut the engine.   
  


"Rory wait! Just wait a sec, I'm sorry. Come on." Tristan called, jumping out of the car to face her over the rooftop.   
  


She turned to face him. "I've gotta go. My mom'll be home soon,." she answered flatly, turning her back and heading inside. Tristan swore fluently. 

He flung himself into his seat and roared off.   
  


Rory dropped her bag onto the floor next to the coat rack.   
  


"Mom?" she called out, hoping she was right about Lorelei still being at work. 

When the house remained silent she heaved a grateful sigh and ran to her room to change.   
  


As she was pulling on her jeans, the phone rang and she glanced at it warily.   
  


"Hello?"   
  


"Rory?"   
  


"Dean?"   
  


"You are home. I was getting worried,." Dean answered easily. She heard the smile in his voice and felt a wave of guilt hit her.   
  


"Uh, yeah. I was just-reading. You know how I get when I read. The house could be on fire and I'd still be reading,." she cringed as the lie crossed her lips. The same lips that had just kissed Tristan. The same Tristan who had thought he was kissing someone else, or didn't care who he was kissing at all, she reflected darkly. 

"Rory, you still there?" Dean's voice drew her back. 

"What? Yeah, I'm here." she frowned. "Listen, Dean, I've gotta go, okay?. I still have to check to make sure the house is on fire and all. I'll call you tomorrow."   
  


"Okay." he answered slowly. "Are you sure your alright? Want me to come over?"   
  


"No! I mean, no. Everything's hunky doory. What does that even mean, anyway? Hunky Doory it's a really stupid expression. Never mind, I really have to go, I'm sorry. I'll talk to you later. Bye." she said nervously, slamming the phone down on the receiver quickly.   
  


Absurdly, her mind insisted Dean would call right back and know instinctively that she'd been unfaithful.   
  


"Oh my God. I kissed Tristan. What do I do? I should tell Dean. I'll phone him back and just say, 'Dean I kissed Tristan but it's over and it didn't mean anything' Did it? No! I can't tell him, he'll kill Tristan. Arg!" she paced the length of her room before flopping onto the bed with a groan." "Great now your really losing it. It's not like it matters. You kissed Tristan Dugrey. So what? I bet every other girl at Chilton has kissed him before, it's practically a tradition. Way to be an individual, Rory." she frowned again before realizing how angry she was getting at that line of thought. She grabbed the pillow next to her to hold over her face as she screamed.   
  
  
  


-   
  



	5. Love me When I'm Gone

Such Sweet Sorrow   
  


Disclaimer: For legal purposes it must be stated that I do not own any of the characters from Gilmore Girls nor do I own characters originated by Jennieln, who has given me permission to use them. Lyrics are from "Love me when I'm gone." By Three Doors Down   
  
  
  


Author's Note: I am so sorry I haven't updated in so long. There was a whole big to do with moving and vacations and family crisis, illness and beta MIA! Seriously my beta's living through the horrors of high school complete with exams and all sorts of nasty so she's a busy girl AND I can't just post a chapter without her, cause trust me, what I write may be good, but after she's edited out all the screwy bits I appear brilliant! Much love for anyone still reading this bit of goods and no worries I will finish this!   
  
  
  


Chapter Five: Love Me When I'm Gone   
  
  
  


There's another world inside, me that you may never see 

There's secrets in this life that can't hide.. 

Somewhere in this darkness there's a light that I can't find 

Or maybe it's too far away.. 

Or maybe I'm just blind   
  


"You're being absolutely foolish!. Mr. Tremain has offered for you, regardless of your sullied status.. You should marry without haste before he realizes his error and withdraws his suit." Alice voice was high and screechy at Isabella's back as Isabella moved slowly between the crudely made dresser and her own disreputable looking satchel.   
  


"I will not Jack Tremain is a horrid, small-minded, ill-tempered brute!" Isabella answered coldly.   
  
  
  


"I shouldn't be so uppity if I were you, harlot, considering your own tarnish," Alice retorted bitterly.   
  


"If you have already forgotten of your trespasses, then you are more of a whore than I thought."   
  


"I am not ruined, I am not tarnished and I consider my brief time with William to be to my credit. Nor would I trade our friendship for a thousand marriages to a man such as Mr.Tremain," Isabella turned to stare at her Aunt reproachfully.   
  


Alice's face turned a splotchy red with indignation and, Isabella suspected, jealousy.   
  


"You mark my words," Alice hissed "You'll come to a bad end Isabella Radcliffe and there'll be no one to weep for it." With her final curse hurled swept form the room leaving Isabella starring after her. 

"Would you weep, William?" she whispered softly.   
  
  
  


So hold me when I'm here, right me when I'm wrong 

hold me when I'm scared, and love me when I'm gone 

Everything I am, and Everything in me 

Want's to be one you wanted me to be 

I'd never let you down, Even if I could 

I'd give up everything, If only for your good.   
  
  
  
  
  


Only a short walk away from where Isabella stood, William stared into the fireplace. His father's best brandy decanter was rapidly being depleted as it sat on the table next to his armchair. Above the blazing fire the vase he once used to exchange notes with mocked him. His hand tightened angrily around fragile glass of the brandy. 

'He should have told her.' William berated silently.'She deserved to know he hadn't wanted to abandon her. Isabella damned well deserved to know he hadn't lied when he told her how special she was. She deserved to know that only fear of his Father's retaliation against her family had kept him from dragging her off to Gretna Green.' 

"Bella." He groaned,"Oh God, Bella. What have I done? I am a stupid, fool!"   
  


************************************************************* 

So hold me when I'm here, Right me when I'm wrong 

You can hold me when I'm scared, you won't always be there 

So love me when I'm gone, Love me when I'm gone...   
  
  
  


Rory's House   
  


"Moooommmmm!" Rory wailed from her bed.   
  


"You rang, Master?" Lorelai drawled, lurching into the room, hunched over and swinging her arms uselessly.   
  


"I need coffee, Mummy," Rory whined pitifully in her best little girl voice.   
  


"Sweetie. I know you're not feeling well, but I can't be your Starbucks Lady all the time," Lorelei told her with mock sternness.   
  


"I'm tired," Rory pouted. 

"You dreamt again, didn't you? Rory, this is ridiculous. I'm calling Dr. Bobby today. He can't hypnotize you and find out what's really bothering you. If the incense doesn't make you pass out, he can just bop you on the head with something really hard and see if that shakes something loose,". Lorelei said as she walked over to sit next to Rory. Rory sighed, seeing the concern in her mother's eyes.   
  


"It wasn't...completely the dream," Rory admitted in a disgruntled mutter. "I was talking to a- friend until really early this morning."   
  


Lorelei's eyes widened. "Wow! Who'd you keep up all night? Dean? Rory, honey, you can't stay up like that. You're exhausted enough as it is."   
  


"I know, Mom I'm sorry I just got caught up and didn't notice the time, and it wasn't Dean...it was a friend, from school,"Rory muttered reluctantly.   
  


Lorelei sat back with a thoughtful expression.   
  


"It was Tristan!" Rory burst out. "He's been really helpful lately and we're friends now so..Besides I told him I'd go over to his house while you're at work. We have homework do to," she finished lamely.   
  


"Mm-hmm. Rory?" Lorelei forehead crinkled as she thought carefully. "Is there..something else going on I don't know about? Do you like Tristan? Is that it? Are you feeling guilty?" Lorelei gasped. "Are you dumping Dean? Will Tristan replace the cooler water? Is he strong? Wait! Is he cute?"   
  


"NO! I'm not dumping Dean. Mom!" Rory cried exasperated. "I don't feel guilty. There's absolutely nothing for me to feel guilty over. Nothing! Tristan and I are friends. I'm with Dean." Rory repeated a little desperately.   
  


"Rory-" 

"No! I don't want to talk about this anymore! Tristan is not replacing our cooler water and it doesn't matter how cute he is! I'm going to get my own coffee."   
  


Lorelei watched as Rory stalked from the room before smiling at the retreating figure. "So he's cute..Really cute. Hah! What is it about me that just makes people open up like that?"   
  


A faint "shut-up" was heard from the kitchen moments later.   
  
  
  


Tristan's House   
  


When your education X-Ray, Can not see under my skin 

I won't tell you a damn thing, That I could not tell my friends 

Roamin' through this darkness, I'm alive but I'm alone 

And part of me is fighting this, But part of me is gone....   
  
  
  


"How about some warm milk? You could try to nap a little, maybe I can run and get some of those sleep aid tablets?" Gretchen offered, staring at him again with anxious eyes. Tristan looked away, feeling guilty.. He felt a little sick over having yelled at her days ago.   
  


"I don't need anything," he told her tiredly, he smiled at the thought of him looking like the walking dead in order to procure her concern.   
  


"Thanks," he added.   
  


"TristanI know you're still upset with me. But..please don't punish yourself because I'm the one making suggestions. You need to do something! You're exhausted." Gretchen's eyes turned damp and pleading and Tristan felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his chest.   
  


"I'm not punishing anyone, Gretchen. I got a little sleep last night and I'll try to nap later, but I'm okay. Really." He offered a winning, if tired, smile that faded as soon as Gretchen nodded and turned away. "I would appreciate it if you could make up some snacks for later though...Rory's coming over again." He watched Gretchen's back, studying her for her reaction   
  


"No problem." Gretchen answered with a small nod.   
  


"She might stay for dinner," he added after a moment. "I'll come down to get the snacks. We'll be working hard so I won't want any distractions," he told her pointedly.   
  


Gretchen's back stiffened and Tristan smiled with grim relish. "Whatever you want."   
  


"Rory she's something else, really," Tristan mused aloud, coldly enjoying the way Gretchen's muscles grew even tighter as she restrained the urge to yell at him. Normally Gretchen held no reservations about lecturing him or giving him a whack when he deserved it, but things were already strained between them. In his more pensive moments, Tristan figured it was nice that Gretchen wanted to protect Rory. It was an easy place to come to, once you met Rory, since he, himself, held a crazy desire to protect Rory-except she only needed protecting from him.   
  


"I'm going upstairs," he announced abruptly. "Let Rory know I'm waiting for her when she gets here."   
  


He was headed back upstairs when the doorbell rang, and he turned, heading back down to answer it. In his more pensive moments, Tristan figured it was nice that Gretchen wanted to protect Rory. It was an easy place to come to, once you met Rory, since he, himself, held a crazy desire to protect Rory-except she only needed protecting from him.   
  


"I'm going upstairs," he announced abruptly.   
  


"Let Rory know I'm waiting for her when she gets here."   
  


He was headed back upstairs when the doorbell rang, and he turned, heading back down to answer it. Gretchen was walking out of the kitchen but he waved her away. 

"Hey! What took you so long?"Tristan smirked as he yanked open the door and saw Rory standing on his doorstep. She was wearing jeans with a red shirt claiming 'Girls Rule!' He sneered even as he reached for her pack.   
  


"I had breakfast with my Mom before she went to work. And I rode the Bus, Mr. GTO." Rory stepped past him, heading toward the staircase,"Hey, Gretchen," she greeted warmly.   
  


Tristan's smile faded as Rory greeted the older woman who stood quietly outside the kitchen door watching them.   
  


"Hello, Rory," Gretchen answered with a smile. "Got a lot of homework to do today?"   
  


"Tons. No rest for the weary. Uh you don't by any chance have any coffee made, do you? I've only had two cups and I need at least five to get going."   
  


"Of course she does,"Tristan answered from behind her. "I warned her you were on your way. First thing she did was run over to the coffee maker muttering something about 'coffee maniac' and 'plum crazy without it.' I don't know, I didn't catch it all."   
  


Rory smiled at Gretchen even as she paused to smack Tristan as he caught up to her. "Ignore him. He's just trying to bug me," Rory explained cheerfully.   
  


Gretchen's smile flickered, but she nodded, "He was always that way, even as a boy."   
  


"Oh, really?" Rory said with sudden interest, "You don't happen to know any embarrassing stories, do you?"   
  


"No, she doesn't and you don't need to know," he said and clapped a hand over her mouth quickly before she could finish the request and open the door for Gretchen's favorite memories. He slung the pack over his should and used his free hand to herd her upward. "And we are going now. I'll come down for the coffee in a sec." 

Rory pulled his hand away from her back as they reached the first landing and called down to Gretchen, "We'll talk later!"   
  


Gretchen smiled as she headed into the kitchen.   
  


***************************************************************   
  


So hold me when I'm here, Right me when I'm wrong 

Hold me when I'm scared, and love me when I'm gone 

Everything I am, and everything in me, 

Wants to be the one you wanted me to be..   
  


"I don't know. I felt lost," Rory admitted, sitting on the couch, curled up. Tristan sat in his computer chair, facing her, legs crossed.   
  


"Yeah. I know what you mean. But there's got to be some sort of continuancy with the dreams, some sort of pattern, you know?"   
  


"You mean like something we haven't been noticing?"   
  


"Yeah."   
  


"Like what?" asked Rory, blinking. She hadn't even thought of it, really.   
  


"I think besides the fact that something is trying to tell us something, there's something weirder going on."He looked at her for a second, their eyes not quite meeting. 

The moment passed and Rory drew back, uncomfortable with the bond she felt for this boy whom she had so disliked only a few weeks ago.   
  


"Right, well just an idea. Anything helps. I know you said we couldn't, but I feel like shit, you're probably just as exhausted. If we could just try again, I swear I won't lay a finger on yousexually, I mean. " he smiled encouragingly.   
  


Even having her in his bed was better than nothing, he figured.   
  


Rory glanced at the bed but frowned she was about to voice the refusal that sprang to her lips when she caught a flash of; disappointment? Unhappiness? Hurt? On Tristan's face, "Okay."   
  


"Rory-" Tristan's protest broke off and he stared incredulously. "What? Okay? I mean--that's great. Thanks. I mean, I even think the bed thing was a little too forward last week." he finally mumbled in confusion.   
  


Rory smiled. "If I don't get some sleep soon my head's going to fall off and roll away." She told him wryly.   
  


Tristan offered a sympathetic smile and gestured toward the bathroom. "You go ahead and get comfortable. If you're nice to me, later on you can have control over my gay remote."   
  


"Dirty," Rory rolled her eyes at him. "I'll pick the movie, though You have horrible taste."   
  
  
  


Tristan groaned but dutifully turned his back to head downstairs. "Help yourself to my closet if you need anything."   
  


Gretchen eyed him warily when he told her they didn't need any snacks, but she promised they'd have to eat a big meal later.   
  


When Tristan came back to his room, he found Rory fast asleep on his bed in a pair of sweatpants and that Harvard sweatshirt she seemed to wear a lot when she slept at his house Her left hand was tucked beneath a squishy white pillow, the right hand stretched across the bed. He smiled as he lifted the outstretched hand, gently, sliding into the bed beside her. He wrapped his fingers around hers and curled entwined hands against his chest as he lay on his side mirroring Rory.   
  


Tristan drifted off the sleep as he studied the pixie features he was beginning to know so well.   
  


I'll never let you down, Even if I could 

I'd give up everything, if only for your good 

So hold me when I'm here, Right me when I'm wrong 

You can hold me when I'm scared, you won't always be there 

So love me when I'm gone...   
  
  
  


************************************************************   
  
  
  
  
  


"Done! I win!" Rory exclaimed, slamming her chemistry book shut. "You don't know jack about electron levels. You suck!"   
  


"Yeah, and I feel so bad about it, too." 

Rory rolled her eyes at him. "Can I have the gay remote now?"   
  


"If you keep on calling it that you're never going to get to the DVD collection, sweetheart." 

"Don't you have any normal movies?" Rory muttered, moving past the amused boy to fully inspect the movie cabinet.   
  


"All my movies are normal. I'm a guy. I have sperm. It's a guy's collection of normal, testosterone-filled goodness," Tristan grinned cheekily, still staring up at the ceiling as he was lying on his back.   
  


"Ew."   
  


Six hours of sleep had done both of them good. Perhaps not that much good to Tristan's sense of humor, but it had left Rory rather satiated. 

"I don't have Bambi." Tristan retorted still starring up at the ceiling from his sprawled position next to her.   
  


"Hah!"Rory crowed suddenly. Tristan glanced toward her and saw her waving a pink cover at him. He squinted trying to make out the blurry image and groaned.   
  


"Where did you find that?"he demanded as he fought the heat rushing to his face.   
  


"It's my favorite movie of all time, besides Ocean's eleven," Rory told him, pulling the DVD out to put in the machine.   
  


"I don't want to watch that! It's a chick movie!" Tristan protested, sitting up to try to stop her.   
  


"Why do you own it if you don't like to watch it?" Rory persisted putting the disc in and hitting play.   
  


"I don't" Tristan denied quickly. "I don't" he repeated at her disbelieving look. "My cousin probably left it here the last time she came by and some helpful servant put it in there while cleaning." He protested as Rory looked on doubtfully.   
  


"Anyway. It's a good movie. You'll like it. It's got pirates, and giants and swordplay. Very appealing to the juvenile mind." She supplied helpfully.   
  


"Ha, ha," Tristan muttered as he stood and shifted onto the couch to watch. After a moment Rory followed, flopping herself down on the couch next to him.   
  


"It's a kid's movie!" Tristan exclaimed as Fred Savage appeared on the screen.   
  


Rory nudged him to be quiet but otherwise ignored his outburst.   
  


Throughout the beginning Tristan threw out snarky comments to bait her and Rory would dutifully slap his arm or shove him into silence. By the middle of the movie they sat quietly, watching the movie intently, laughing at the ridiculous antics of Wesley, Indigo Montoya and the rest of the characters.   
  


As the credits rolled Rory turned to him with a triumphant expression. "See! It was great, right?"   
  


Tristan rolled his eyes at her. "It was okay, not as stupid as I thought.. It was still a chick movie, Rory." He shrugged.   
  


"Ug. You have no taste. I give up,". Rory said, standing to stretch. "What time is it anyway?"   
  


Tristan glanced at his watch. "Whoa, it's almost eleven, I better get you home."   
  


"Eleven," Rory repeated weakly. "Oh my God! My mom is going to kill me . I'm supposed to me home in five minutes!"   
  


"Relax. I'll come in and explain," Tristan offered, jumping to his feet to help Rory grab her things.   
  


"Thanks," Rory said, shooting him a quick grin. "But I think it'll go better if you're not there. No offense."   
  


"Because I'm a sex god and your mom would never believe you could spend time with me and not take advantage of my weak flesh?" he asked innocently   
  


"Yeah, that's it Gee, Tristan, how could you know that?"   
  


"It happens a lot more than you might think." He told here earnestly as he picked up her pack and headed for the door.   
  


"I bet," Rory scoffed as she stepped past him 

  
  


Maybe I'm just blind....?   
  


**************************************************************   
  


Forty minutes later they turned onto Rory's block laughing as they argued over the Insane Clown Posse CD he insisted they listen to.   
  
  
  


"This is terrible! They're Bozos!" Rory retorted laughing at the bad pun.   
  


Tristan groaned. How can you listen to them?"   
  


"It's existential. They're mocking today's society," Tristan argued.   
  


"They're total idiots! You can't mock the mocking."   
  


"I happen to like them," he said, smiling as watched Rory give a suspicious glance towards the CD player in his car. Her expression changed when she looked up from it.   
  


"Besides you...Oh, this is bad." Rory's face paled as they stopped in front of her house.   
  


"What's wrong?"   
  


"Dean."   
  


"Dean's here. He's waiting for me. He can see you. You have to go! Drive away. NO Wait, I should get out. No, he's headed this way let's just go. You can drop me off down the street. Why are you stopped? Don't turn off the key! We have to get out of here!."Rory rambled frantically.   
  


"Relax Rory, okay? I'll talk to him." Tristan grabbed the hand she was using to try to shove the gear into Drive.   
  


"No, no you can't. Tristan"   
  


The door opened quickly and Rory realized she was staring at Dean's form, and that Tristan was outside.   
  


She glanced out her window just as Dean reached the car and she almost screamed when she saw his furious expression. She heard the door open behind her and belatedly realized Tristan had gotten out while she was starring at Dean.   
  


"Hey, listen-" she heard Tristan say as he came around the car and approached Dean. His hands were up and open to show he meant no harm and Rory started to call out a warning as she shoved open her own door.   
  


Dean lunged at Tristan from where he had been standing. Tristan's face registered surprise as Dean's body plowed into his mid-section. The two boys tumbled to the grass and rolled as they fought for supremacy.   
  


"Dean! Stop!" Rory shouted, watching the two boys fearfully. Tristan finally landed on top of Dean and threw a right. Dean's head snapped back as a red patch bloomed at his mouth where Tristan's fist landed.   
  


"Tristan!" Rory screamed crying now as the violence escalated, shaking her.   
  


Tristan heard Rory call him and turned to look at her. He saw her tears and loosened the hold on Dean. Instantly Dean freed a hand and caught Tristan under the chin with an uppercut.   
  


He lay on his back stunned as Dean stumbled to his feet and grabbed Tristan's shirt to drag him up.   
  


"MOM!" Rory shouted running toward the house for help.   
  


The door flew hope and Lorelei ran out wearing her favorite old robe over cow print PJ's. She pulled Rory into a hug as she frowned over at the two boys. "I'm calling Luke!" she shouted as she pulled Rory toward the door.   
  


"Get off me you jerk!" Tristan growled, grappling with the hands pining him down.   
  


"I told you to stay away from her!" Dean retorted drawing back to hit him again.   
  


"You don't deserve her." Tristan shoved him up and off, rolling quickly to his feet.   
  


"And you do?" Dean sneered. "A pretty boy like you? Where's your tie?"   
  


"We're not at school now, jerk-off!" Tristan reminded him. "So I can do this!" He stepped forward and swung, putting the force of his frustration behind it.. The blow landed with a satisfying smack to Dean's cheekbone sending him flying.   
  


Panting a little, Tristan watched Dean expecting another attack. He heard Rory shriek and he turned to look at her just as she ran over to Dean's side. Ignoring the intense need to yank her away and insist she acknowledge what a jerk Dean was..Insist she dump him, he turned away.   
  


From her kneeling position next to Dean Rory looked up at Tristan. Her eyes were still filled with tears, her cheeks stained where others had already fallen. Holding back a groan, Tristan shrugged reluctantly.   
  


"Dean, are you okay?" Rory asked, turning her attention to the boy at her side.   
  


"I'm fine." Dean muttered angrily as she stood helping pull him to his feet.   
  


Lorelei ran over to help and lifted his chin to look at the cut that was bleeding. "You'll be fine once you put a cold cloth on it, but I already called Luke so he'll be here any minute you should go." Lorelei warned, glancing over at Tristan to make sure her point was made.   
  


While Lorelei checked Dean, Rory slipped away to go to Tristan. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.   
  


"Sure. It's nothing." Tristan answered, trying to smile but he winced as the cut on his lip pinched open and began to bleed once more.   
  


"Mom, can you take Tristan inside and get him an ice pack?" Rory asked, glancing over to her.   
  


"Sure hon.," Lorelei nodded, turning to intercept them.   
  


"I'm so sorry." Rory whispered, her eyes filling again.   
  


"Rory-" Tristan started to reach for her when she took a step away, forcing him to drop his hand uselessly back to his side.   
  


"Come on boy-whom-I've-never-met-but-am-now-aware-is-the-former-Evil-Tristan, Bible-Boy-of-Hell." Lorelei said as she reached his side. Tristan followed silently as she headed into the house. He glanced back at Rory but she was standing near Dean again and he felt a wave of shame grip him. Dean was the one Rory wanted, He was just her tormentor. Why had he ever thought they could be friends? Tristan berated silently. 'If you cared at all, you'd get the hell out of her life!' his brain insisted, then the door closed, shutting off the image of Rory tending Dean's injuries.   
  


************************************************************* 

So hold me when I'm here, Right me when I'm wrong 

Hold me when I'm scared, and love me when I'm gone 

Everything I am and everything in me, 

wants to be the one you wanted me to be...   
  


"Are you okay?" Rory asked Dean again unhappily.   
  


"What do you care?" Dean retorted, holding his fingers to the cut at the side of his mouth.   
  


"Your right! You deserve it. How could you attack him like that?" she demanded, suddenly furious with his attitude.   
  


"Are you kidding me? What was I supposed to do Rory? Shake hands with the guy I know my Girlfriend is cheating on me with?" Dean demanded, shouting at her.   
  


"I am not cheating on you with Tristan!" Rory shouted back.   
  


"Right." Dean drawled, disbelievingly. "Do you think I'm stupid, Rory? Just because I don't go to your snotty little prep school like you and the accountant? The whole town knows, Rory. You think I can't see their pitying looks when I'm at the store? Or hear them whisper that you've been coming home late every night and getting out of the same fancy car?!" Dean waved toward Tristan's GTO with a sneer.   
  


"We're working on something together." Rory told him tightly, wrapping her arms around her waist to ward off the chill that was beginning to grab her.   
  


"Yeah, Each other." Dean muttered.   
  


"You know, I think it's time you went home. Luke'll be here any second and he'll wanna talk to my mom." Rory said turning away. "I don't like you very much right now." She said quietly.   
  


"Fine." Dean spat, turning to stomp away. A moment later he paused and turned back. "Just one question and I'll go."   
  


Rory turned to face him, wiping away the tears that were falling again.   
  


"I'll believe you, no matter what. I'll even apologize to the preppie if I was wrong." Dean offered with a grim smile.   
  


Rory froze, her stomach churning painfully as foreboding swept her. "Dean.." She paused, uncertain of what she intended to say.   
  


"Did you kiss him Rory?" he asked quietly, watching her closely, spotting the stricken expression that appeared, the guilt that flooded her face.   
  


"Dean, please?" Rory shook her head, wanting to lie, to deny it but knowing she couldn't, hoping he'd take it back.   
  


Dean's face hardened. "Say it!" he ordered coldly. When she shook her head again, his anger flared. "Say It!" he shouted.   
  


"Yes!" she burst out. Dean stared at her silently as the implications of his question and her answer sank in, tearing away whatever fragile bond existed between them.   
  


"Dean, wait..I can explain." Rory whispered.   
  


"Don't bother. I think it'd be best if you didn't see me or try to talk to me for a while." Dean told her bitingly.   
  


Rory started to protest but Dean had already turned away.   
  


"Rory?" a voice called behind her. She turned and met Luke's sympathetic gaze. "You okay?"   
  


She started to nod but tears filled her eyes. Instantly Luke stepped closer and awkwardly hugged her.   
  


"Uh..Let's go find your Mom." He suggested leading her toward the front door.   
  


Rory sniffed, wiping the tears away as best she could.   
  


"Lorelei!" Luke shouted as soon as the door was open.   
  


"Luke!" Lorelei shouted back.   
  


"I'm okay, Luke. Mom called you because Dean and Tristan were fighting but it's over now." Rory told him quietly.   
  


"You want me to go after him, I can drag him back for ya?" Luke offered nodding outside.   
  


"No, it's okay. Thanks." She smiled.   
  


"I'm just gonna wait for your mom. Talk to her for a quick sec, than I'll go." He told her warily, as if she might burst out crying again. 

"Sure. She'll want to talk to you anyway. Thanks for coming over so quickly." 

  
  


"Sure. No problem." He nodded.   
  


"I'll go get Mom." Rory answered, turning away quickly to hide a smile at his relieved look. "Mom, Luke's waiting." She called as she headed toward the back hall.   
  


She found Lorelei standing just outside the bathroom door.   
  


"Is Tristan okay?" Rory asked quietly.   
  


"I think so. What happened with Dean?" Lorelei asked reaching out to stroke Rory's hair gently.   
  


"We broke up. I guess." Rory sighed.   
  


Inside the bathroom Tristan heard Rory's quiet words and froze staring at the bruised image in front of him. They broke up? Maybe..?   
  


"Oh honey, I'm sorry. Are you okay? Do you want me to go break his arm or I'll send Luke? We'll call a town meeting have him boycotted? Luke'll never feed him again and he'll starve..No wait. That's us. Uhh."   
  


"No. He thinks I'm cheating with Tristan." Rory answered a moment later.   
  


Tristan smiled grimly at his reflection.   
  


"Uh not to sound like a Mom or anything but..what is going on?"   
  


"We're working on something together." Rory answered quickly and Tristan's smile faded. He slumped forward feeling a great deal more batter than a moment before.   
  


"And I guess we're friends now." Rory added thoughtfully, making Tristan pause.   
  


Friends? He tested the word and nodded. I can live with that.   
  


"Okay. So..Do we hate Dean?" Lorelei questioned almost hopefully.   
  


"No. Yes. I don't know. I don't like him very much right now but he's been one of my best friends for almost a year. What if he doesn't even want to be that anymore. I can't think about this anymore." Rory groaned painfully. "Where's Tristan?"   
  


"In the bathroom cleaning up. He's okay. Just a little banged up but if he wants to win the heart of a Gilmore, he's gotta brave it out." Lorelei teased.   
  


"He's not tying to win my heart! Forget it! I'm not talking about this either. Luke's waiting at the front door. Go talk to him."   
  


"Okay. I'll go tell him we're okay but don't think we're finished." Lorelei warned, heading down the hall.   
  


Rory waved but walked into the kitchen to make coffee while she waited for Tristan to reappear.   
  


Twenty minutes later Lorelei and Rory sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee when Tristan reemerged from the bathroom looking worse for wear.   
  


"Wow! You look awful." Lorelei dead panned.   
  


"Thanks." He smiled at her and only winced a bit when his lip pinched.   
  


Lorelei looked over at Rory with a raised eyebrow. "Didn't you say you need something from the livingroom?"   
  


"No." Rory frowned in confusion. "Ow!" she yelped, lurching forward suddenly. "I meant yeah, I need..an ice pack."   
  


"You keep your ice pack in the living room?" Tristan smiled at the two of them, as far as he could tell Rory and Lorelei acted more like sisters than Mother and Daughter. He also had a sneaking suspicion that Lorelei had just kicked Rory under the table and guessed that she wanted to talk about him in the other room. A moment after Rory stood Lorelei jumped up and announced she would help Rory look for the ice pack. He could hear the murmur of voices as he sat at the kitchen table, but deliberately tuned out the conversation when he heard his name.   
  


"He looks awful. Should he spend the night? I can call his parents. I think he should spend the night? He shouldn't be driving in his condition. Should I call his parents? The warden? His agent? What? Unless you don't want him to stay? Want me to call Luke back and throw him out roughly?" Lorelei offered with an evil glint.   
  


"No mom. Don't bug Luke again. Your right, he should stay. He's too exhausted to drive but he insisted on bringing me home. Fight Dean must have wiped out any energy he had left." Rory glanced toward the kitchen as she spoke and her voice softened.   
  


Lorelei absorbed Rory's look with a thoughtful frown but didn't comment. "Do you want me to ask him?" she asked instead.   
  


"No. I'll do it." Rory said, heading back toward the kitchen. "And there no one to call."   
  


"I'm going to go look for spare sheets then. Tell him I said I command him to stay!" Lorelei called afer her daughter. Rory waved over her shoulder and Lorelei headed toward the hall closet muttering about evil closet gnomes.   
  


Tristan was sprawled in a chair half-asleep when Rory reappeared. He blearily raised his eyes when she approached but the smiled that flickered died before it reached his lips and he tried to rise instead.   
  


"You look exhausted. My mom said to tell you she commands you to stay tonight. You can bunk on the couch." Rory lowered her voice. "And maybe it'll work if were under the same roof?" she suggested hopefully.   
  


He nodded without real hope. "You sure it's okay with your Mom? I don't want to cause problems with you two."   
  


"It's fine. Don't worry." Rory smiled and Tristan finally got to his feet.   
  


"I'm wiped. I'll probably pass out the second my head hits the pillow." He confessed following Rory toward the livingroom.   
  


"My Mom's looking for spare sheets and blankets and pillows right now but I'll go steal her blanket and pillow until she finds them." Rory announced with a quick mischievous smile.   
  


"It's okay. I don't need either. I could fall to the floor and be out in 15 seconds." He yawned behind her.   
  


"No I-"   
  


"AH Hah!" Lorelei shouted upstairs. "I win! I win!" she called out with a series of thumps.   
  


"She's dancing. She found the spare linens so she's beaten the closet gnome again." Rory explained.   
  


"Okay." Tristan nodded uncertainly.   
  


Ten minutes later the couch was made up into a comfortable bed and Tristan was settling in wearing an old pair of Lorelei's sweat pants.   
  


"Need anything else?" Rory asked politely, stifling another yawn.   
  


"Nope. Goodnight Rory." Tristan shut his eyes reluctantly and was already dozing when Rory whispered, goodnight.   
  


I'll never let you down, Even if I could 

I'd give up everything, If only for your good 

So hold me when I'm here, right me when I'm wrong 

You can hold me when I'm scared, you wont always be there 

So love me when I'm gone...   
  
  
  


Tristan sat straight up, his chest hurt where his heart thundered and he glanced absently at the clock as he rose. It was 1:37am, not quite an hour since he first lay down. Quietly he made his was to the door of Rory's bedroom. He pushed the slight opening and the door swung open. Rory lay in the bed, kicking and shoving at invisible forces. He heard her moan and slipped inside. He brushed a hand over her silky hair and she stopped kicking.   
  


A moment later her eyes flickered open. The two stared at one another silently until Rory shifted to one side, lifting the edge of her blanket invitingly. Tristan slid in beside her, holding himself stiffly next to her until Rory reached out, linking their fingers. Warmth flooded him at her touch, soothing tense muscles. They slept.   
  
  
  


Love me when I'm gone.. 

Love me when I'm gone.. 

When I'm gone... 

When I'm gone... 

When I'm gone. 

  
  



	6. BitterSweetness

Such Sweet Sorrow   
  


Disclaimer: For legal purposes it must be stated that I do not own any of the characters from Gilmore Girls nor do I own characters originated by Jennieln, who has given me permission to use them.   
  


Author's Note: Wow! I can barely believe I'm here. Finally, Chapter six, possibly one chapter and one Epilogue away from the end. The End is in sight! Don't give up on me people! Hopefully everyone liked Chapters four and five since I'll be posting the three of these almost simultaneously. This chapter is dedicated to all the Trories out there who are still hanging in there, praying for the Tristan return! I'm with you all and consider this humble tale a mere distraction until CMM makes his return.   
  


Chapter Six:   
  
  
  


'Coffee. Must have coffee!' Lorelei thought as she rolled over to glare at the alarm clock that she'd forgotten to turn off the night before. She shut her eyes, determined to go back to sleep and instantly realized she was awake. She pulled the pillow over her head, trying to deny the insistent thoughts that invaded her mind. This was awful, she was really awake, not half-awake, not a quarter awake but completely awake; able to recall all of last evenings proceedings clearly and she was even bitterly aware that in a moment of weakness she'd agreed to meet her mother to go shopping for Rory later day. 'Arggg!!'   
  


Huffing indignantly she flipped the covers away to hop out of the bed. Lorelei ran a hand through her hair as she stumbled down the stairs, belatedly recalling Tristan's presence on her couch. Quieting her steps she peeked into the livingroom as she headed past toward the kitchen and coffee. She was halfway past the doorway before the empty couch registered. She took a step back and walked closer. "Tristan?" she called quietly. 'Bathroom.'   
  


She continued toward the kitchen intending to knock on the bathroom door and make sure he was all right before inviting him to join her for coffee and inquisition. 'Not that she was going to tell him that.' She reassured herself. The bathroom door was open and she peeked in, finding the room as empty as the livingroom and she frowned. She hesitated as she reached Rory's bedroom but slowly pushed the door open.   
  


Rory lay with her head on Tristan's shoulder. Tristan had an arm curled around her, his hand still tangled in her hair, his head tilted toward her as if he'd fallen asleep watching her.   
  


Lorelei's brain skidded to a sudden halt before shifting into high gear. She would pull the two of them apart and demand an explanation. No, that was ridiculous she could see that nothing had happened here except some shared sleeping quarters. Her mother was gestapo she wasn't going to do that to Rory she trusted Rory. Lorelei nodded. 'I don't trust him though, I don't even know him!' she thought with a venomous look toward Tristan. She looked at Rory again and saw how peacefully she was sleeping and immediately softened again. 'Rory was probably upset over Dean, maybe she was crying and he heard her. He probably went to comfort her and just fell asleep holding her like that. Awww. That was so sweet. She definitely liked this boy.'   
  


Lorelei sighed as she leaned against the door frame watching the pair. 'At least she's getting some sleep.' Her mouth twisted into a wry smile before she turned away, resolving to let Rory explain in her own time.   
  


An hour later Tristan stumbled into the kitchen rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Lorelei sat starring unblinkingly at him and he froze. "Uh, Good Morning?" he offered. 

"You want to tell me how you went from sleeping on my couch to sleeping in my daughter's bed last night?" Lorelei demanded.   
  


"I-that is..Nothing happened, Mrs. Gilmore. I mean we slept that's it. She was-and I went in. We didn't- I'm sorry." Tristan stuttered, his face heated as he realized Lorelei had seen him sleeping with Rory.   
  


"Coffee!" Rory came up behind him and pushed him aside.   
  


"Sorry, all gone!" Lorelei chirped with malicious glee as she lifted her own mug.   
  


"What?" Rory whispered, horrified. "You drank all the coffee? You didn't save me one cup? Why do you hate me?"   
  


"You slept with a strange boy. You must account for acts of teenaging before you can be permitted back into the big people world where coffee lives." Lorelei insisted.   
  


"I was not teen-aging. He was just..like a big strange-boy-pillow. Completely different animal." Rory quipped.   
  


"What?" Tristan's bewildered look made Rory snicker as she sat beside her mom.   
  


"Look, your making him turn bright red. Mom stop scaring Tristan." She admonished.   
  


"He's the one who snuck in to be my daughter's strange-boy-pillow last night. I'm supposed to scare him. He's supposed to tell me he has honorable intentions!" Lorelei whined.   
  


"I didn't sneak. We just sleep better next to each other." Tristan blurted out.   
  


Lorelei and Rory both turned to stare at him. Rory frowned while Lorelei's eyebrows flew upward. "Sleep together often do you?"   
  


"What?" Tristan choked out as he realized what he had just said. He was beginning to feel as though he'd walked into a movie late and had no idea what the plot was. Lorelei was apparently. Not really upset at learning he'd spent the night in Rory's bedroom but was taking a great dal of malicious joy in confusing him about it.   
  


"Let's go to Luke's. I need coffee, since someone didn't save me any." Rory's voice broke into his thoughts and Tristan blinked just as Rory shot her mother a reproachful glance.   
  


"Okay but you have to tell me everything later and tell Mr. Boy-Band never to call me Mrs. Gilmore again!" Lorelei shuddered. "I almost screamed before I realized Emily wasn't really here and that he was talking to me. Than I wanted to hit him really hard." Lorelei warned as she stood, heading toward the living room.   
  


"Call her Lorelei. She pouts." Rory told him as she walked past him toward her bedroom to change.   
  


"Uh..Mr. Boy band?" he asked hesitantly, his brain still reeling from the conversation he'd almost been a part of.   
  


"She thinks you're cute. Don't let it go to your head. Boy bands are evil, sent here to destroy our taste in music and lull us into pattern thought processes." Rory warned as Lorelei reappeared carrying Tristan's clothes.   
  


"You should get dressed in the bathroom. Quickly. I want food." Lorelei said as she shoved the clothes into his arms.   
  


"Thanks, Lorelei." Tristan smiled slowly at her and winked. "Maybe you could pass the good thoughts along to your daughter, just like your beauty?" he told her charmingly.   
  


"Oh you're good! Your bible boy is smooth, mini me, you must be wise like the grasshopper, sly like the mongoose, quick like Jet Li in that movie where you couldn't really see him move but all of a sudden he was there and kicking your ass, if you do not wish to be caught in his web." Lorelei counseled.   
  


"Mixing metaphors." Rory groaned. "Let's go, it's too early for this. I haven't even had my coffee yet."   
  


"Okay just give me five minutes, point me toward some hair gel and we can get going. My treat this morning to say thanks for letting me stay." Tristan offered as he headed for the bathroom.   
  


Lorelei stopped on her way to the kitchen and turned back to stare at him. "You're going to buy me coffee?" she asked wide-eyed. She sniffed dramatically and turned her awestruck gaze on Rory. "He's a kind and wonderful boy, you must bring him often."   
  


Tristan laughed at Lorelei's antics and shot Rory a superior look. "Oh no, it's my privilege to do such a small thing for the town beauties. And you can have more than just coffee."   
  


Rory glared at him. "Didn't you have gel to apply?"   
  


"Ohh compliments and coffee. He's a keeper." Lorelei nodded emphatically.   
  


"Shut up, Mom." Rory growled as she stalked into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.   
  


Tristan and Lorelei exchanged a look of mutual understand and Lorelei smiled evilly. "So, Tristan..you'll tell me everything of course."   
  


"I'd be delighted, but I've gotta get changed. How about over breakfast?" he smiled at her and realized he like the crazy woman before him. The Gilmore home was nothing like the cold place he inhabited. The lives of the Gilmore women might not contain all the material things he enjoyed but their love for each other was obvious and their home reflected that.   
  


Lorelei nodded her head regally and waved her hand. "I give you leave to complete your ablutions but be quick about it, knave. I would learn much before the interference of mine daughter. Thee product you seek is contained beneath the water basin."   
  


Tristan grinned but bowed dutifully. "I shall return with all possible haste, Mistress."   
  


Lorelei smiled, delighted with him for continuing the game as he stepped into the bathroom to change.   
  


"Just don't hurt her." She told the closed door.   
  


*************************************************************   
  


The three of them were laughing as they sat to breakfast until Luke brought coffee. As he poured Rory and Lorelei a cup, he turned a stony look on Tristan and demanded, "Who are you?"   
  


"Tristan Dugrey. I'm a friend of Rory's." He answered respectfully, shooting Rory a questioning look.   
  


"Luke, leave Tristan alone." Rory said negligently. "Can I have flapjacks? A big stack I'm starving."   
  


"Me too! And you can't hurt Tristan, cause he's nice to me and we're gonna keep him. He's our new houseboy." Lorelei added childishly beaming a bright smile at Luke.   
  


Tristan choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken and Rory reached over to whack him between his shoulders. "Relax, she's crazy, remember? What are you having?"   
  


"Uhh.." Tristan stared blankly down at his menu. "I'll have whatever you're having."   
  


Luke grunted as he wrote it down before snatching the menus away and stalking off.   
  


"He's not going to poison our food or anything is he?" Tristan asked shooting a concerned glance toward the kitchen.   
  


"What? No. Luke love's us. That's just how he is." Lorelei waved airily.   
  


Tristan nodded but was far from confident when the stacks of pancakes came. He gaped at the large piles in shock. "You expect us to eat all that?"   
  


"No." Luke grunted as the girls started digging in with relish. "I've got more on in the back. My grill can't make them all at once." He answered as he headed back toward the kitchen.   
  


"Thanks Luke." Lorelei shouted at his back.   
  


"Yeh, Tanks Lup!" Rory mumbled around the food she had shove in her mouth.   
  


"Hey! More coffee!" Lorelei shouted.   
  


Tristan shook his head as he cut into his own food. He stopped suddenly and lowered the utensils.   
  


Both Gilmores turned identical bewildered stares of him, and he finally burst out laughing, until he was clutching his sides.   
  


"Is he okay?" Lorelei asked as she stared at him.   
  


Tristan took a deep breath to regain control and tried to keep a straight face. "Tristan Dugrey, Gilmore Houseboy." He told them and cracked up once again.   
  


Lorelei looked over at Rory and snickered. Rory rolled her eyes and tried to look serious. "You should have cards made up." She told him. Making him howl louder and finally she broke laughing aloud.   
  


Two Weeks Later, Friday   
  


Tristan was on his way to Rory's locker again as he thought about the past two weeks. He'd been waking up next to her almost every day. Some night's he'd stay awake to watch her sleep, her hand tucked carefully against his heart. It never mattered to him that exhaustion plagued him, Rory lay next to him and every day they grew closer. His relationship with Gretchen was easy once again, although he still caught her frowning whenever he told her Rory was spending the night. Lorelei had been a wonderful surprise when he and Rory explained to her their odd connection she'd nodded in acceptance, made him swear not to do anything that would force her to hunt him down and maim and then she'd become practical. How long could this go on? Have they seen a doctor? Studied up on sleep disorders? Did they know anyone who did Voodoo? And if so why was it called voodoo? And was the past tense voodid? Or voodoed? 

Once Rory had regained her mother's attention they'd come up with a sleep schedule allowing Tristan to spend most of his nights at the Gilmore home with one or two appearances at the Dugrey mansion. The only proviso that they both kept searching for a way to stop the dreams permanently. He was forbidden from sleeping with Rory in his own bed, Lorelei apparently felt that anything might happen removed from her immediate presence whereas sleeping in Her house would make them both feel guilty enough to keep hormones in check. 'It seemed to be working.' He admitted ruefully to himself. 

John, Duncan and Alex had taunted him repeatedly after his absences from the party scene but he'd smiled at them and answered simply that he had better things to do. Word spread like wildfire through the school that Tristan had been completely domesticated by Rory Gilmore and was officially off the market. 

He and Rory spend their days together doing homework or arguing over their personal preferences for music, tv, videos or literary works. The most heated debates still concluding with exasperated laughter which left him feeling as though he'd finally become a regular person. With everyone else he'd always held himself apart, watching to see what each person wanted from him before committing himself and yet with Rory he held nothing separate. In a way his world had shifted until he no longer saw his life from the same view. Chilton, seen through Rory's eyes, was just a place they went to, to learn. The students there he'd once considered some approximation of friends we're really a shallow group, full of self-importance and he shuddered whenever he thought of how he must have appeared to Rory the past few months. 

When he'd casually mentioned what a jerk he had been she'd agreed politely and now she teased him with the name. She'd introduced him to Lane by saying, "This is Tristan the jerk I told you about." When he just laughed Lane looked confused but she smiled at him and shot Rory frantic looks whenever she thought he was looking. After a couple days Lane had relaxed enough to assure him he had no taste in music and berate him for never having heard of P.J. Harvey, Rory's current favorite singer. He'd smiled his most charming smiled and begged forgiveness for the error of his ways. Lane was still sputtering when Rory reached over to whack him, telling him to stop picking on Lane who wasn't used to his "toothpaste ad smile." 

Slowly life was beginning to grow into a different routine for them, each of them blending seamlessly into each others lives until it was understood that he met her at her locker in the mornings and after school. That she would meet him for lunch at their table, he knew that she would spend half her lunch hour in the library and brought magazines to read. He was even getting used to helping out with chores around the house, although he was growing suspicious of Lorelei's insistence that she and Rory usually had to do all the 'fix it' work around the house as well as heavy lifting. 

So far the real problem they'd discovered came from an unexpected corner. Paris, whom he had always liked but thought of as a little scary, seemed to loath Rory more than ever. She'd started glaring at them whenever she saw them, and he'd seen her deliberately smash into Rory, knocking her down and making her late to class. Tristan had caught up to Paris to offer a friendly warning, hoping he could fix whatever was going on for Rory's sake. 

"Come on Paris, what's the problem with you and Rory anyway?" he'd asked casually. 

"She doesn't belong here." Paris spat at him angrily. "She should just go back to her little public school and her thug boyfriend and leave me the hell alone."   
  


Tristan stiffened as jealousy swept through him, making his tone frigid. "No." He bit out furiously. "She's not going anywhere. You need to grow up Paris."   
  


"Or what? Going to fight me for insulting your new flavor of the month? She'll dump you when she figures out what your game is anyway or you'll get bored. Don't forget who your friends are." Paris warned him imperiously. 

"I think your forgetting who I am, Paris. You know how bad I can make it for someone here. Whatever happens with Rory I don't think you should cross me. Don't hurt Rory again." He'd walked away knowing he would never be able to consider her a friend again unless she found common ground with Rory and he succeeded in getting Rory to feel something for him. He resented Paris for playing on his fears, she'd known exactly where to thrust the blade by mentioning Rory's ex.   
  


Dean's attack had come at a perfect time apparently. Rory had developed a stubborn dislike of Dean's possessive attitude and unjustified violent outburst. They'd bumped into Dean outside the dairy shop and Rory had ignored him as she walked on at Tristan's side. Only Tristan had seen the sadness and guilt that flickered in her eyes before she hid them and he'd felt his own guilt flicker to life. It seemed unwise to enlighten Rory about the way a guy could tell when his territory was being threatened, that Dean, contrary to what she believed, had understood very well what Tristan's intent was and had reacted as any animal would when threatened. Instead Tristan spent his days trying to be a person Rory could fall for and his nights fighting the desire to pull her closer and lay siege to her heart. He realized he was probably still the villain for Rory but the intense need he felt to stay closer to her warmth until it seeped into him, was too great.   
  


Rory was the most frustrating part of the dreams that drove them together. Despite the two of them becoming friends and spending all their time together she ignored any attempt he made to grow closer. If he suggested a date-like scenario she immediately thought to ask along Lane or he mother or vetoed the suggestion altogether. He couldn't seem to just say he wanted to be alone with her and she was blissfully ignorant of any hints in that direction.   
  


Still it was the weekend again and he'd finally found something nonthreatening to suggest as a date and he felt anticipation hum through him as he approached her locker. Rory was standing at the locker talking to a girl from her Math class; Carrie, Carol, Cathy something or other and she smiled at him when she saw him heading her way. She gave a short wave and said something to Cathy before turning away to pull her backpack from her locker.   
  


"How was algebraic conversion today?" he said by way of greeting as he nodded toward Cathy who passed him.   
  


"Sorta nightmarish with a side of Yuk." Rory answered slinging her pack onto her shoulder as she turned to leave with him.   
  


"Ahh but I've got the perfect antidote."   
  


"Coffee, a government ban on Algebra and a letter from Harvard explaining the pointlessness of Algebra and assuring me that I do not need an A in it in order to be accepted there?" she asked hopefully.   
  


"Uh, no." Her face fell and he hurried to continue. "I mean, of course, there will be coffee and I can help you with Algebra, it's getting easier right?" she nodded and he smiled. "But that's not the antidote. This weekend we're going to take a break and do something relaxing."   
  


"Ohhh, Movie night? With extra popcorn, nachos, chocolate walnuts and Mochachinos?" Rory guessed with childlike enthusiasm.   
  


"No." He laughed. "Guess again."   
  


"Tell me, tell me, tell me. Tell me!"   
  


"Okay, okay. Cleeveston's got the fair this weekend. I thought if we could okay it with Lorelei that I'd drive us up there. We can take a couple things and stay all weekend if you want. I'll even spring for the motel." He suggested waiting for her to admire his brilliance.   
  


"I don't know." Rory answered thoughtfully. "My mom probably can't take time off work and without my mom Mrs. Kim would never let Lane out of the house unless we could convince her it was some kind of bible retreat?"   
  


"No, Rory, I meant just the two of us." Tristan told her exasperated finally.   
  


"Tristan.." Rory said, dragging out his name unhappily.   
  


"Damn it Rory! I wanted to do something together what's the big deal. I just-" Tristan looked away as he felt his control slipping. "I just wanted to hang out with you, for the day. Not your mom, not lane, not Luke. Just us."   
  


"I thought you liked them, what's wrong with them?" Rory demanded.   
  


"Nothing." Tristan ground out. "What's wrong with you? What are you so afraid of? I try to spend time with you along and you want to drag a chaperone along. Did I miss a time warp? Is it 1889?" he demanded. People looked over, some smiling as they took in the heated scene and Tristan almost groaned. "Come on, we can talk in here," he told Rory propelling her toward an open classroom door. The room was empty and he quickly shut the door, before turning to her.   
  


"Great. Maybe now you can explain what your talking about?" Rory demanded facing him combatively.   
  


"I'm talking about being together. I can't take it anymore Rory. Half the time I can't even talk to you because someone else is always around. If we're not sleeping next to each other I can't touch you or you freeze. It's driving me nuts." Tristan stalked over to the window to stare out, he could feel himself losing control over his frustration and he grimly reached for whatever sanity he had left.   
  


"I'm sorry I don't know what your talking about. Your not making any sense, do you need to talk to someone? I can get a councillor?"   
  


"I'm talking about our dreams. I'm talking about the fact that I go to sleeping holding you and I end up hurting almost as bad as the nights I sleep alone. I'm talking about the fact that I'm so far ahead in all of my classes I can probably apply to Harvard myself, that I'm constantly on time, that I spend hours in the library. Damn it Rory!" Tristan vented.   
  


"O-Kay. You don't want to go to Harvard and you don't like the library. What? I give up I don't get it." Rory held up her hands in surrender.   
  


Tristan turned to look at her, solemnly. "Maybe..maybe the tow of them are trying to tell us something. William and Isabella I mean."   
  


"Like what? Life sucks? Sleep is overrated?" Rory asked sarcastically as she stomped over to sit at one of the desks.   
  


"No..like maybe we.." Tristan took a deep breath, his heart seemed to have moved up into his throat. "Like maybe we're..meant to be together. Maybe it's been about us the whole time."   
  


Rory stared bewildered at him. "What?" she whispered.   
  


"I know it sounds nutty coming from me but I think that's it. That's what's going on. It's why we share the same dreams, why we have to be together to sleep peacefully, why we wake up miserable when we're apart. It's the only thing left that makes any kind os sense. Look, Rory, I never believed in Fate either but this..?" his eyes pleaded with her to believe, promised devotiona dn a depth of emotin wich made Rory trembel before disbelief kicked in. 

"Your-if your using these dreams as some sort of excuse to get me to go out with you you can jsut forget it!"   
  


"What?! Damn it, Rory aren't you listening? It's not about a date, your not just some girl. It's us, together. If we're not meant to be together then you tell me why we dream the same dreams, why I end up aching for you? Why the only time either of us gets any rest is when we touch? Your all I think about. When I'm studying, when I'm in class, when I lay in bed wishing you would just look at me for once. Rory, look at me." he demanded throwing his hands wide.   
  


"You're just confused. I'm not Isabella." She protested, ignoring the fierce ache that ripped open inside her as she spoke.   
  


"I'm not William. I'm not looking for a dream. I don't even know what the hell she is but I know she'd not you! She's not the one I keep hoping will notice-"he broke off in frustration, raking a hand through his hair and disrupting the carefully disheveled look.   
  


Rory stared silently, stunned by his outburst as she tried to fit what he was saying into the image she carried of Tristan Dugrey. Testing the strength of his words, she turned them over and over looking for weaknesses.   
  


"Forget it," Tristan muttered angrily. "Maybe your right. Maybe it's nothing and I'm crazy. Who the hell cares?! You can go back to bag boy." He grabbed his pack, slinging it roughly onto his shoulder as he headed for the door.   
  


"Tristan wait!" Rory jumped up, standing between him and the door. He paused, watching her with a shuttered gaze. "You scare me." She told him quietly. Tristan's brow knitted. "You're too much for me, Tristan. I like you but your too fast and too experienced. Too wild, too arrogant and too rich. I can't understand your world. You need someone who won't get hurt when you walk away. That's not me. I don't know who you are from one minute to the next, how am I supposed to trust you?"   
  


Tristan's eyes blazed, "how are you supposed to trust me? You don't know who I am? Is that right? So all those nights we spend together; laughing, working, talking; all the nights I've spent keeping my damn hands off you. None of that means anything? That's crap Rory, and you know it. You know me better then anyone else in this whole damn school. Better then my parents know me. But that's not real right? Cause I"m still the bad guy? Seducer of innocents?" his voice lowered and he moved closer, stalked her with smooth practiced grace. "Are you seduced? Are you really angry at yourself for wanting me? I'm touched, really Mary, I am. But you shouldn't feel guilty. Every girl wants me eventually and the ones I want, I take."   
  


"Stop it. I know what your doing and it wont work!" Rory shouted at him.   
  


He smiled evilly at her. "Why not? Oh..Should I be more like Dean then? Huh sweetie?: Rory, can I hold your hand? Rory, can I kiss your cheek? Rory, can I walk behind you like some pathetic slave?" Tristan mocked cruelly.   
  


"Shut up! At least Dean really cared about me. At least he made me feel special, like I was the one he wanted not just some name on a checklist!" Rory threw at him bitterly. Her heart was aching at his accusations but she ignored the voice that wondered how much of what Tristan said was true. She ignored the voice that wanted to believe in him, to risk everything to be with him. She ruthlessly thrust aside the voice that whispered of love.   
  


"You mean, he made it easy for you," Tristan said through clenched teeth. "He gave you a nice, safe relationship to hide behind. No tough decisions, no hard choices and better yet; no risky, messy emotions."   
  


"No! You don't understand!" Rory cried, almost hating him in that instant. Even as that other voice whispered, 'Yes! Dean was the safe choice but not the right one!'   
  


"Oh, I understand. You think I don't feel you watching me? That I don't notice when you hold your breath because I get too close? You can build all the walls you want, throw bagboy in my face a million times but I know what I feel, and I know what you wish you didn't feel. Maybe it's just attraction but you feel something for me!" Tristan's eyes turned pleading again. "It's not because you're new and I'm between girls, not because I'm wild and your innocent. You aren't some face in a crowd you're the only one I see!" he told her desperately. He felt as though it was his last chance, and maybe for them it was. The need to be with her that he'd held in check for so long had finally broken open, leaving him anxious. What if this was the dream and tomorrow she hated him again? What if life pulled them apart and he never told her how dead he'd been until she arrived at Chilton? What if she never knew that she warmed an entire room just by being in it and when she left he was made of ice until her return? He hated her for it, almost as much as he loved her because if she couldn't love him he would die again and this time would be worse because in his mind he would remember what if felt like to love, to be warmed by it. 

"You think I like feeling like this?" Tristan demanded suddenly. "I feel half alive when your not around. No one supposed to be necessary to my existence and suddenly here you are! And I can't breathe again until you smile because then I know you don't hate me. So, I give up! You win. Now you know exactly how I feel about you, exactly how much power you have over me and I Know you don't feel the same! I know you don't love me but whatever you do feel..maybe it's bigger then a Friday night date, and it's not about a highschool sweetheart or the latest lover! Go ahead, deny it. It's what you want to do right? Tell me I'm crazy? Go back to your safe little town where things don't get hard and maybe your safe little bagboy will take you back. I'm going home and taking a couple SleepEZ," he pushed past her and stormed out as she stared at him with stricken eyes.   
  


She felt a crushing pain in her chest and she sank weakly to knees, as the silent tears that had fallen became great jagged sobs ripped from her chest. She shook her head against the words that echoed in her head and the memory of Tristan's tortured eyes.   
  


"What did you do to him?" A strident voice demanded.   
  


Rory looked up to see Paris glaring down at her. "Go away Paris." She choked, wiping her face against her sleeve.   
  


"I saw Tristan, he looks like hell. Paradise finally over?" Paris asked snidely as she stepped inside the room and paused to shut the door. "What is this? The young and the pointless, get moving people!" she shouted at the people shuffling past the door. She slammed the door in their faces with a satisfied thud before turning on Rory like a vengeful valikyrie. "So what happened?"   
  


"None of your business. I'm going home." Rory said dragging herself to her feet. She suddenly felt very old and tired.   
  


"No, you're not." Paris informed her haughtily. "Your staying right here until I figure out what happened."   
  


"Why? We fought, Tristan left. Here's your chance. Isn't that what you wanted?" Rory shouted at her.   
  


"That depends. If he dumped you because he's bored or your annoying or something then that's fine. You can leave. But if he's upset because your stupid enough to think you prefer that oversized lapdog or you finally managed to really hurt him then I have more questions." Paris answered calmly.   
  


"I'm not answering your questions." Rory bit out.   
  


"Why not? If you're mad at him then I'll just think it's your own fault you know what he's like but if he's mad at you then you should be glad your going back to the lapdog." Paris reasoned.   
  


"His name is Dean. And I'm not going back to him! Besides you had it all wrong anyway. Tristan and I are just friends!" Rory insisted but even as she said the words she heard herself repeating the same statement over and over during the past few weeks and she realized she'd never spoken the truth.   
  


"Right. Your friends. That's why he stares at you and why he ignores his friends, he's risking everything he's built here because of you. We've been friends almost my entire life, did you know that? Not close but we've been in the same groups since our nannies stuck us in the same playgroup. I was here the whole time but he picked you over that. The really sad thing is he thought he was so happy. I warned him you thought you were too good for him." Paris shook her head as she headed toward the door.   
  


"I didn't-"   
  


"I thought you were supposed to be really smart? Looks like Tristan's bad taste in girls continues. If your stupid enough to let him go then you might want to consider going back to your town after all, and staying there. We could have been friends I suppose but I can't let you hurt my friends and even Tristan tries to protect you again I've got my own power. Well, this school can be a hard place to be in, if you get on the wrong persons bad side." Paris suggested as she walked out of the room.   
  


Rory stared after her, the things she said finally sinking in. Paris was defending Tristan? Paris thought Tristan risked everything for Her?? He'd protected Her? He was happy?   
  
  
  



	7. I'd do Anything

Such Sweet Sorrow   
  


Disclaimer: For legal purposes it must be stated that I do not own any of the characters from Gilmore Girls nor do I own characters originated by Jennieln, who has given me permission to use them. The lyrics are from Simple Plans "I'd do anything" and I have borrowed them for the progression of my story without monetary gain of any kind.   
  


Author's Note: This is it! Last chapter, so I hope you've enjoyed this story so far and I apologize once again for dragging it out! There will be a short epilogue following unless I've managed to finish it as well and posted them both in which case I hope you like them. Hopefully CMM will return soon to thrill all of us Trories but in the meantime, Happy Reading!   
  


Chapter Seven: I'd do Anything   
  
  
  


Another day, is going by 

I'm thinking about you all the time 

But your out there, and I'm here waiting   
  
  
  


"Rory!" Gretchen stared in surprise at finding the young girl standing on the doorstep. She quickly stepped aside to allow Rory to enter. As Rory stepped past her with a tiny smile, Gretchen noted the red puffy eyes that revealed she'd been crying and almost asked what had happened. She'd already guessed Rory and Tristan had argued from Tristan's earlier entrance into the house.   
  


"Is Tristan expecting you?" Gretchen asked aloud, as she recalled Tristan's furious face when he'd told her 'I've let the little innocent go. Isn't that what you wanted? Completely untouched so the evil creature's been thwarted and you can breathe a sigh of relief, I won't bring anyone like her into my web again.' he'd snarled at her before slamming up the stairs.   
  


"No, but I need to see him. Is he upstairs?" Rory answered quietly, shooting a glance toward the staircase.   
  


"He's up there, but you might want to give him a call later instead. You look tired, why don't you go home an take a nap, you can call him tomorrow and I'll tell him you came by." Gretchen smiled, hoping Rory wouldn't confront Tristan while he was still angry. She felt guilty for ever hoping Rory would be able to share her warmth with Tristan, to soften the edges of the boy before he could become the man his parents wanted. For the past two weeks she'd seen the tentative happiness he had growing in his eyes. He was quick to laugh, and had grown increasing more like the sweet, thoughtful man she'd been given precious few glimpses of before. Then today when he'd slammed into the house she'd seen the black rage that rode him and she'd almost cried at the loss.   
  


"No, it's important. If I don't talk to him now, he'll just avoid me at school." Rory declined, turning to head upstairs.   
  


"Don't let him hurt you, Rory. He's an unhappy young man, he'll lash out to protect himself from getting hurt because he doesn't believe anyone can care for him without wanting something from him. It's the way his parents raised him." Gretchen explained almost apologetically.   
  


"I know." Rory glanced back to offer her a reassuring smile before resuming her climb. "It'll be okay."   
  


Gretchen watched Rory's assent as hope warred against the fear that if Rory couldn't save Tristan he just might destroy her.   
  


************************************************************   
  


And I wrote this letter, in my head 

'Cuz so many things were left unsaid 

Now your gone and I can't think straight 

This could be the one last chance 

To make you understand...   
  


Rory walked slowly to Tristan's bedroom, dread weighing her down even as she drew closer. At his door she hesitated, she didn't really know what to say to him. She thought perhaps she had really hurt him and the idea that she could scraped rawly inside her. The hope she'd seen in his eyes as he tried to tell her, tried to explain how he felt, ate away at her conviction that Tristan didn't feel anything deeply. She wasn't sure what it was she felt for him except that she like spending time with him. 'Why wasn't it enough? What if they did go out and she started to care even more for him? Tristan wasn't like Dean; he made out with a different girl every week! She didn't know if she could stand to lose anyone else in the name of dating.'   
  


She shook off the angry doubt that was rising in her and knocked lightly at the door before pushing it open.   
  


"Tristan?" she called out as she peeked around the door. The room was silent and she spotted him laying on the bed. He was sprawled across the bed, the blankets had been shoved aside and lay bunched at his feet.   
  


Slipping her bag from her shoulder she dropped it onto one of the chairs as she approached the bed. Tristan kicked out roughly, his face a mask of frustration as he fought against his nightmare. Rory lifted a hand, reaching out to him before she'd realized she'd intended to touch him. Her fingertips slid along his cheekbone until she lay her palm against his jaw. His restless movements stilled and she marveled at the bond that connected them.   
  


'He must have been exhausted..' She frowned even as she felt her own exhaustion tug at her. Rory glanced down at the uniform she wore. With a gallic shrug she kicked off her shoes while she padded around the bed to climb onto the bed beside him.   
  


Curling onto her side, she tucked her hands beneath her pillow as she watched him sleep. After a moment he turned toward her, his hand stretching out across the space that divided them. Rory slid her right hand from beneath the pillow to reach for his hand, curving her fingers over his. She closed her eyes wearily, promising herself she would figure out what to do about Tristan later. Somehow they would find a way to remain friends without hurting him, then they would figure out how to end the dreams that were confusing their relationship. 

Paris was wrong. She had to be.   
  


*************************************************************   
  
  
  


I'd do anything, Just to hold you in my arms 

To try to make you laugh, Somehow I can't put you in the past 

I'd do anything, just to fall asleep with you 

Will you remember me?,'Cuz I know I won't forget you..   
  


It was the night before his wedding. Below-stairs the manor was lit with celebrating family and relations dancing merrily to his and Rachael's future. Only, there wasn't one.   
  


William sat alone in an upstairs study. The only light here came from the fire that warmed the room from the fireplace. It was the only light he could bear. He hadn't seen Isabella in months, not since the terrible day he'd rejected her. He'd left the manor that night, unable to risk seeing her everyday, knowing he could not touch her or speak with her. Knowing he would never again share her warmth, her laughter, her love.   
  


His father had approved, he recalled with a bitter grimace, raising the glass of brandy to his lips. His father had believed that time and distance would make Isabella fade from his heart, instead she haunted him. William had drunk himself senseless, gambled recklessly with both his life and his fortune but all for naught. The only thing he hadn't done was touch another woman, Bella was all he wanted. He would have no other.   
  


When his parent's had joined him in London they acted as if bitter words had never been exchanged between them. They seemed surprised to learn he still bore them ill will and indeed his mother had, had the unmitigated gall to ask him if something was amiss.   
  


William stared into the fire as he recalled his words to her. "Amiss? Why ever should you ask such a thing? What could possibly be amiss, Madam? It is not as though I have had the woman I love taken from me, Is it? Indeed, I am betrothed to a most convenient chit am I not? What call have I for anger?" When she began protesting he'd turned a black look upon her. "Stop. You may play all the games you wish, my lady mother, with the Ton, little care have I for them. However, if you wish me to remain in this house you will not plead ignorance with me. Her name is Isabella. I love her. And I gave her up so that you and your husband would not harm her. That is the ONLY reason I am here. I will not indulge in theatrics to suggest I marry with joy nor pretend any longer that you care for me."   
  


HI mother had wept, his father had raged upon is return, yet tears and recriminations held little sway for him. They had finally settled into a politely distant arrangement in which his parents could claim anything they liked while he was absent and he would ignore everything they said.   
  


The Ton was suddenly beset by a very different Lord William Ashby. Instead of the spoiled arrogant boy who had left London mere months ago, a very imposing man had returned. 

While the first William had charmed, this one brooded, where one spoke easily and with confident arrogance this one spoke rarely, carefully weight his words and delivering the most cutting remarks to the same set he had once led. The first William paid call on diamonds of the first water this one danced with spinsters and wallflowers. The Ton was shocked; rumors of head injuries, financial reversals, ill-fated romance abounded but all agreed this new William was an enigma. They loved it.   
  


The more disdain he held for them the greater the desire to secure his approval. But he missed Isabella.   
  


Now hours before he was to be wed he'd come to the abrupt conclusion that he had to try to win her back. He would go to her, explain his foolish words, beg her forgiveness and ask her to marry without haste. They could leave here, set sail for the colonies, begin anew. He would see that her family was taken care of but he could no longer face the days without her.   
  


He set aside the glass as he rose. It was time to inform everyone that plans had changed.   
  
  
  


Together, we broke all the rules 

Dreaming of dropping out of school 

And leave this place, and never come back   
  


He told his parents first. Since they had engineered his marriage he left them to clear away the mess of broken promises. Rachael, he knew, would not be heartbroken over his defection, merely annoyed at his timing. She had informed him, upon meeting, that she had no intention of remaining at Pendworth's Manor after the wedding. Rather, Rachael intended to spend most if not all of her time in London or abroad. At the time, he had not cared but now he was relieved that she would not suffer more grievously than bruised pride.   
  


It was her father and his own who would be the most enraged by William's cold stance. But William was already striding away as his father's threats rang in his ears.   
  
  
  


So now, maybe after all these years 

If you miss me, have no fear 

I'll be here, I'll be waiting   
  
  
  


He rode quickly to Isabella's family home at the outskirts of their property. He rapped on the door impatiently as the night settled around his like a cloak.   
  


"Matthew I swear_" Alice answered furiously as she yanked open the door. "M-my Lord. I'm sorry, sir. I w-was expecting my youngest boy." she was immediately prostate at recognizing her error.   
  


"I wondered if I might have a word with your niece. I realize the hour, however, it is a matter of grave importance else I would wait until the morrow." he told her, smiling charmingly.   
  


"M-Morrow, sir? My..niece?" Alice repeated faintly.   
  


"Yes. Isabella." William's smile slipped. "You are her aunt? This is her home, is it not?"   
  


"Yes. No! I mean..It was her home, milord. She does not live her any longer." Alice informed his, darting a fearful glance around her.   
  


"What?" he whispered, certain he had misheard. Praying he had.   
  


"She's gone, milord. These past six months."   
  


"Where? You must know where she's gone, you are her family." William raked a hand through his hair, his heart gripped in a painful vice.   
  


"She didn't tell me." Alice said fretfully. She braced herself against the door, expecting his anger but fear ruled him now.   
  


"I must find her. Do you know anyone who might know where she has gone? Think! Surely someone knows what has happened to one girl?!" William demanded.   
  


"No. No one. Begging your pardon, sir but you should leave her be. You are to be married on the morrow. Isabella's long gone." Alice insisted.   
  


He flinched but cold eyes bored into her. "I WILL find her. There will be no wedding unless and until Isabella agrees to be my bride." he informed her rudely before turning on his heel. He heard her cry out and glanced back in time to see her faint. He hesitated, torn between the desire to search for Bella and the training to assist any lady in distress. Just as he was about to go back into the house a shadow stepped forward.   
  


"Did you mean it? Bout asking Izzy to marry you?" a young voice demanded.   
  


William frowned at the boy who stared at him, he looked about twelve years, but stood tall before William. "Who are you?"   
  


"Matthew. That's my Ma," he said, jerking his head toward where Alice lay. "Izzy was crying a'fore she left. Did you make her cry?" Matthew demanded.   
  


William put a hand to the ache in his chest. "Perhaps. But I would make it up to her if I can." he answered, his voice thick with suppressed pain.   
  


The boy scrutinized him carefully. "What about the other lady you said you was gonna marry?"   
  


"She didn't want to marry me." William told him, somewhat truthfully.   
  


"Why not?"   
  


"I don't-because I want to marry Isabella. Do you have any idea who her friends are? I need to find her." he asked desperately.   
  


"She's got lots of friends." Matthew answered and William felt his shoulders sag. "But she's working for the Danforths in Devonshire."   
  


For a moment his brain couldn't make sense of the boy's words until suddenly it burst through his mind like a starburst.   
  


"She's in Devonshire? With Danforths? How do you know this?" William checked the impulse to race off and stared at the boy suspiciously.   
  


"She wrote Ma in case we needed something. I saw the address." Matthew shrugged.   
  


"Thank you." William nodded solemnly and he mounted his horse. "She'll never cry again if I can help it." he said by way of farewell before galloping across the countryside.   
  


This could be the one last chance 

To make you understand 

And I just can't let you leave me once again..   
  


It took him three days to reach the Danforth's country home in Devonshire and he knew he must look half-crazed to the young maid who opened the door. He'd set a furious pace and allowed little time to make himself into a fashion plate for the sake of propriety when he was so close to having her back. His Isabella. Forever this time.   
  


He cleared his throat just as a shout came from down the hall. He and the maid both glance toward it before she turned back to him anxiously. "My Lord is not at home presently, perhaps you could return later?"   
  


"I am not looking for Lord Danforth. I'm looking for a girl, a maid. Her name is Isabella." he asked trying to suppress the desire to push his way inside and call to her.   
  


The young maid's face blanched. "But that-? She is- would you wait in the salon, milord? While I fetch Lady Danforth. I'll just be a moment." the maid curtsied as she showed him to the salon door before scurrying off. He supposed it would be better if he informed the lady of the house that he was stealing one of her maids. It vexed his mother after all.   
  


Five minutes later, an elegantly dressed woman glided into the room and curtsied. "My Lord, a maid informed me you sought you Isabella? May I inquire as to your purpose?" Her Ladyship looked less than pleased to having him gracing her salon and he smiled, hoping to win her over.   
  


"I've come to collect her. There was a misunderstanding I'm afraid. I'm very sorry to inconvenience you but I must proceed immediately. Isabella is to be my wife." he answered proudly, praying he spoke the truth. The happiness the lie afforded him sank as Lady Danforth's face paled.   
  


"Your wife? I understood she had been a maid the past five years, that she had no family to speak of." she insisted shrilly. William winced but held his ground.   
  


"She has worked as a maid, however, once we are wed I will be her family and I can assure you my family has the largess to ensure Isabella will not work another day. Lady Danforth, please. I'm sure this is very confusing for you but it is vital that I see Isabella. Once we have had a chance to speak we can straighten all this out, perhaps we could have some tea and I shall attempt to explain, but first I need Isabella."   
  


"She is-oh Lord. She has been ill. Days ago she wandered about in the storm. When she returned to the house she was frozen to the bone. She has a fever and a cough has settled in her lungs. I was packing..."   
  


She trailed off as William jumped to his feet to tower over her. "Where is she?"   
  


"D-down the hall."   
  


William ran from the room, throwing open doors and calling Isabella's name. He recalled the shout when he arrived and cursed himself for not demanding to know it's reason. Just as he reached the end of the hall a door opened and the young maid stood there unhappily.   
  


William felt all the blood leave his brain as he stepped toward the room. "Is she..?" he whispered, unable to finish the terrible thought aloud.   
  


"She's crazed, milord."   
  


He stepped into the room and almost sank to his knees as grief gripped him. The room stank of death.   
  


"Bella?" he choked out, stumbling to the bedside. She was so pale he barely recognized her as the girl he loved. The girl who had always been so full of life she glowed with it.   
  


"Fetch a doctor!" he turned, shouting at the maid. She ran off and he turned back to Isabella.   
  


"Bella, can you hear me?" he called softly, lifting her hand to kiss her cold fingers.   
  


"William?" she moaned.   
  


"Yes, darling. I am here." he sank to the bed beside her and gripped her hand tightly, fusing his strength into her.   
  


"Why did you leave?" she whispered, running her tongue over cracked lips.   
  


"I am so very sorry. I should not have let you go. We can be married as soon as you are well again. I swear, Bella. I-I love you."   
  


She sighed and her face swam before him. It was only when he blinked that he realized tears were falling down his cheeks.   
  


The doctor arrived presently and pronounced Isabella with Ague, he held little hope.   
  


William pleaded, threatened, offered bribes, blackmail, anything to save her. He saw nothing beyond her bedside, nothing of the servants that gathered at the door to whisper, to stare in shock at the sight of a member of the gentry crying over one of their class. Instead he held her hand throughout the night, praying for her life, begging and bargaining with God in much the same way he'd harassed the doctor. Isabella remained silent and still.   
  


The sun rose, bathing the room in it's golden hues, hours later. William shifted restlessly as someone shone a light into his eyes. He blinked slowly, opening is eyes to see Isabella glowing as she watched him with a tender smile.   
  


"Bella! You are well." be sat up, quickly, 

relief and joy pouring through him so quickly it left him feeling weak.   
  


"William." Isabella sighed. "I am sorry."   
  


"It's all right, my love. I'm here. All will be well, I promise you." he said, gently taking her hand to kiss the soft skin.   
  


"I could not bear to live without you. I love you so very much. I will always love you." Isabella reached out to touch his face and he cupped a hand over hers.   
  


"As I will love you all of my days." He vowed reverently. He had never meant anything more.   
  


"Promise me..?"   
  


"What?"   
  


"You'll be happy?"   
  


"So long as you are by my side." he assured her, brushing her hair.   
  


"I cannot stay. I will always be with you. My heart. You must go on, for me?" tears slipped from her eyes and left smudges along her pale cheeks.   
  


"Stop it. You are not going to die." William insisted fear gripping him once again. "I need you. If you leave me I will destroy myself. I will drink to excess, gamble away my estate, and challenge men to duels each Friday." he threatened.   
  


She smiled faintly at him. "No you won't. You are a good man. My dearest friend. I wish-but that time is gone." she sighed and it turned into a violent cough until she gasped for air.   
  


"Bella!" he jumped up, lifting her quickly with an arm around her shoulders to support her slight weight.   
  


"William, stop." she choked out. He rubbed her back for a moment until the gasping ceased before lowering back to the pillows.   
  


"I cannot lose you. You are the only one who has ever loved me. Who believed in me." he admitted thickly as his throat choked with tears. "The only good man I have ever been I have been with you. Please, Isabella." he felt more tears falling but he ignored them to lay his head against her hand.   
  


"You are wrong. He was always there. You simply could not see him." Isabella stroked his hair, murmuring, "I am so tired.."   
  


"Rest. I'll be here when you waken. We'll decide where to marry." He told her, lifting his face to see her.   
  


"I love you." she repeated softly with a gentle, tired smile.   
  


"I love you." he answered forcibly. To him it was a vow. He would never lose her again.   
  


She closed her eyes and he stood to press a kiss to her hair before heading to the door.   
  


A maid slept just outside, slumped down on a wooden chair. She had been assigned to assist him and he touched her shoulder lightly to shake her away. She stifled a shriek as she jerked awake, finding him towering over her.   
  


"Milord?" she darted a quick look toward the bed questioningly.   
  


"She woke for a few moments. Is the doctor still about?"   
  


"Yes, milord. He is sleeping in one of the guest chambers, shall I rouse him?"   
  


"Perhaps we shall let him sleep a little longer. Could you fetch me something to break my fast? I am famished." he admitted with a rueful smile.   
  


"Certainly sir." she bobbed a curtsy at him before turning away.   
  


"Thank you." he told her retreating form. She glanced back to stare at him with surprised eyes. "You're welcome, milord." she told him after a moment and he guessed it was rare if not the first time she had ever been thanked by a member of his class.   
  


She ran off to the kitchens as he turned back to the room.   
  


Isabella lay sleeping within the sunlight that bathed the room and he wondered if he should close the drapes to let her rest. He didn't like the idea of Isabella laying in darkness. 'She looked so much like an angel with light surrounding her.' He smiled at his whimsical thoughts a he crossed the room to her side.   
  


As soon as the doctor wakened they would rouse Isabella for the doctor's examination and for her to eat a bit. Tea or broth or something nourishing to regain her strength. Surely within the week, a fortnight at the most Isabella would be well enough for travel. He would apply for a special license at once. They could marry at once-or perhaps Isabella would like to be wed at Pendworth's chapel with her family present.   
  


"We'll invite Matthew, Bella. You'll like that won't you?" he asked quietly, sitting again at her bedside. He reached over to brush his fingertips over her cheek. He smiled when she didn't stir. She must be exhausted But in an instant his smile faded as a shiver touched his spine.   
  


"Bella?" he called as urgency gripped him. He rose, shaking her. "Bella!"   
  


When she didn't respond he put his head to her chest and heard nothing. "Bella!" he shouted, fear stripping him of his control. A clatter of dishes breaking lifted his gaze to the young maid you stood frozen in the doorway. The tray which had carried his breakfast lay at her feet as she stood starring in horror.   
  


"Fetch the doctor, AT ONCE!" he roared at her. She turned to run and William pressed open Isabella's mouth, giving her his own breath. Willing her to breathe, to live. "Bella. Open your eyes." he pleaded shakily. He breathed air into her mouth again and again, gulping breath to pull into his own lungs to whisper promises, prayers.   
  


"Move aside." another voice ordered.   
  


He glanced up to see the doctor standing over him and quickly moved away.   
  


"She was awake. Talking. Moments ago." William rambled.   
  


The doctor leaned down to listen to her heart.   
  


"Save her. Please. I will do anything. Pay anything. You must save her!"   
  


The doctor straightened slowly. He regarded William solemnly before slowly shaking his head. "There's nothing to be done, Milord. She is gone."   
  


"No." William choked out. "No! She cannot be dead. You are not trying to save her!" he shouted stepping closer to the bed once more.   
  
  
  


"Bella." he sank to his knees, the tears that were choking him spilled over and ran unchecked down his face.   
  


"Please don't leave me. Please..." he begged.   
  


This could be the one last chance 

To make you understand 

And I just can't let you leave me once again   
  
  
  


The room cleared, leaving William to his grief. It was hours before he snapped out of the madness and stumbled from the room.   
  


Lady Danforth and the doctor were seated in the salon. The doctor immediately stood to offer him a drink.   
  


"Brandy." William answered gutterly. "Can you..?" he swallowed to ease his dry throat. "Can you tell me what happened?"   
  


Lady Danforth cleared her throat delicately. "She was..suffering from some malady. The maids tell me she walked alone, in the rain, four nights ago. She was soaked when she returned and caught the fever the next evening. We had no idea..that is to say, she never mentioned you."   
  


"I said..something foolish. She left. I let her go. Tis my fault." William accepted the glass with a nod of thanks, and took a swallow. 

"What will you do now?" the doctor asked politely.   
  


"I-I hadn't thought." William shook his head to clear the fog that plagued him. "I shall take her home. Bella.." he took another quick sip of the burning liquid. "I need her near me. I promised her..told her I would take her home..so we could marry."   
  


Silence reigned.   
  


I close my eyes, And all I see is you 

I close my eyes, I try to sleep 

And I can't forget you....   
  


Days later Isabella was buried in the Ashby family graveyard. Isabella's family came but William stood at the grave side in silence, unable to offer the words of sympathy he knew he owed them. The weather was bitterly cold and rainy, driving the mourners indoors finally, except William.   
  


He felt neither the cold nor the damp as he stared down at the earth where Isabella was buried. His heart buried alongside her.   
  


His parent's arrived later that day, aghast at his behavior. "William you cannot be serious? That-maid cannot remain in the family plot!" his mother cried horrified.   
  


"I will not have it. Centuries of Ashby's are laid to rest there." his father insisted.   
  


"And I will be laid to rest there. Beside her. She would have been my wife if she had lived, If I'd been wise enough to recognize my error sooner." William answered flatly. His eyes lacking all warmth or spark of life as he stared at them. "I won't marry. Ever. She was the only woman I shall ever love. I won't disgrace her by bestowing the title of wife on someone merely for the sake of an heir." he glanced toward his father. "You took her from me. If you try to move her, I'll destroy this family, every way I can."   
  


He rose heading for the door, his parent's shouts a distant static.   
  


He paused as he reached the doorway. "I'm staying here with her. I'd consider it a boon if you would leave me to my grief with all possible haste."   
  


"Your only ten and eight years William. Time will heal your wound." his mother cried, making him laugh bitterly.   
  


"Nothing will heal me."   
  


And I do anything for you.   
  


************************************************************* 

I'd do anything just to hold you in my arms 

To try to make you laugh, but somehow, I can't put you in the past 

I'd do anything just to fall asleep with you 

Will you remember me? Because I know I won't forget you...   
  
  
  


Tristan opened his eyes slowly. He registered the sound of crying a moment before he closed his arms tighter around Rory.   
  


"Rory, stop." he said lifting his free hand to stroke her hair. "Don't cry, you'll make yourself sick. Please?" he cajoled.   
  


"Tristan." Rory sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm so S-sorry I hurt you," pressing closer against his chest.   
  


"It's all right." he told her gently his own heart aching.   
  


Rory burst into a fresh set of tears, crying harder. "T-they Didn't M-make it. God! How could this happen?"   
  


"Sshh. He loved her, at least she knew that. And she got to tell him she did love him before she died." Tristan rubbed her back soothingly and slowly her tears quieted.   
  


"She loved him so much. It hurts. My heart hurts. I feel like I lost him."   
  


"I know." he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. "They loved each other. It just wasn't enough."   
  


Rory lay quietly in his arms for a moment. "Everything came between them; society, rules, classes, their families even their pride." she whispered achingly.   
  


"They let it come between them. They let it all dictate that they didn't belong together. They were wrong, Rory." Tristan pointed out.   
  


"He loved her enough to risk everything to go to her." Rory looked up at him. "Just like he loved her enough to protect her."   
  


"Rory I_"   
  


"Sshh." she pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him. "I know what you we're trying to say earlier. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I was scared. I should have trusted you."   
  


"I shouldn't have pushed. Your not ready. I just wanted you to give me a chance."   
  


"I know." Rory leaned up to press her lips to his. She kissed him slowly before leaning back to see Tristan's surprised expression.   
  


"What was that for?" he asked, afraid to hope.   
  


"I figure out what William and Isabella wanted. Some times love isn't what you think it should be. It doesn't follow any rules. You have to be smart enough to see what's in front of you and strong enough to risk everything to hold onto it. Damn the whole world if they don't understand. I trust you. If you want my heart, here it is. Don't break it, okay?" Rory smiled tremendously at him.   
  


Tristan swallowed to ease the lump in his throat. "I love you, Rory. You don't have to say it back. Wait 'til you feel it. I'd do anything just to make you smile. And I'm sorry for all the times I was a jerk I just..wanted you to see me, so badly. I need you. You make me better then I am."   
  


"Then don't let go." Rory instructed, reaching up to kiss him again. This time Tristan poured his heart into his kiss, his tongue driving inside to tangle with hers. Rory touched his face, soothing the terrible ache inside him and he shuddered, pulling back to breathe.   
  


"When I came I didn't know what to tell you. I do now." Rory stared into his eyes, willing him to believe her. "I love you. I've never said it before to anyone and I don't want to say it to anyone else ever."   
  


He nodded, too choked up to speak, peace was slowly flowing through him, healing the scars he'd carried for so long.   
  


"And if you ever look at another girl, I swear I'll kill her and turn you over to my mother and Luke for a few days." She threatened suddenly.   
  


He laughed. "Deal. It'll never happen. Well..I might look." he admitted earning him an elbow to his ribs.   
  


"Hey!"   
  


"Just look. I won't touch, I swear. Besides, how could anyone compare?" he told her earnestly.   
  


"They better not." she muttered, laying back down to snuggle against his chest. His arms wrapped around her automatically and she sighed.   
  


"Does this mean I'm finally gonna get a date with the unattainable Rory Gilmore?" he grinned.   
  


"But you love me?" he said with obvious delight.   
  


"And you need to think about the dating thing?"   
  


"Yep." she smiled slowly.   
  


"But you won't stop loving me?"   
  


"Nope."   
  


"Promise?" he asked quietly.   
  


"Promise."   
  


It was a vow.   
  


I'd do anything, to fall asleep with you 

To fall asleep with you, with you 

I'd do anything, to fall asleep with you 

I'd do anything, there's nothing I won't do 

I'd do anything, to fall asleep with you 

Cuz I know I won't forget you...   
  
  
  


THE END 


	8. Sweet Parting

Such Sweet Sorrow   
  


Disclaimer: For legal purposes it must be stated that I do not own any of the characters from Gilmore Girls nor do I own characters originated by Jennieln, who has given me permission to use them. The lyrics are from Simple Plans "I'd do anything" and I have borrowed them for the progression of my story without monetary gain of any kind.   
  


Author's Note: Hope everyone's enjoyed Such Sweet Sorrow, which dragged me through the past few months right along side you. While I knew all along where I was headed the journey was anything but what I expected and I felt lost at least half the time. I had fun though. Here's an epilogue just to pull it all together and give you that mushy "Awwww.." feeling! Lots of Love to all my readers and special thanks to Nel, my beta who ripped her head bald trying to get me to the finish line. Your the Best!   
  
  
  


Epilogue   
  


Three Months Later   
  


Chilton, Lunch Hour   
  
  
  


She sat alone at one of the lunch tables, her book lay open before her. Distractedly picking at her food, her eyes raced across the page completely absorbed by the story unfolding before her.   
  


Tristan shook when he spotted Rory and began weaving through the crowded cafeteria to reach her side. He sat down, next to her, once he reached the table and silently waited for her to notice he was watching.   
  


He saw the moment her back stiffened, a split second before her head came up, swinging around and meeting his amused gaze.   
  


"Hi!" she smiled warmly at him before glancing down to mark her place.   
  


"Miss me?"   
  


"Since I saw you an hour ago? Tons. Actually I was spiraling into depression just wondering what took you so long." she said sarcastically.   
  


"I knew you were lost without me." he returned with a smirk. "Hey guess what I found?" he asked suddenly almost vibrating with energy.   
  


"The most incredible girl in the world, possibly the universe, and she's willing to put up with you?" Rory asked with wide eye innocence.   
  


"Funny." Tristan raised any eyebrow imperiously. "Someone needs a coffee intake reduction."   
  


Rory gasped, reaching out to grab her cup quickly, cradling it to her chest. "No! Go away, Mean Tristan. I want Good Tristan back."   
  


"For a kiss I'll drive you to Luke's, buy you One cup of coffee and tell you what I found." Tristan offered.   
  


Rory laughed. "You drive me to Luke's everyday and buy me coffee. Plus you drive me home AND help me do my homework. Sorta. Really it's more like me helping you with your homework in-between fighting off the make-out king. So what else ya got?"   
  


"How about just kissing me because you love me?" Tristan asked thoughtfully.   
  


Rory shook her head slowly.   
  


"Because I love you?"   
  


She smiled wickedly but shook her head again.   
  


"Because I found William and Isabella?" he asked lowering his voice.   
  


"What?" Rory yelped, causing several heads to turn their way. Tristan smiled at them amused by Rory's outburst.   
  


"Where?" she demanded.   
  


Tristan grinned evilly raising an eyebrow.   
  


"Can I pay later?" Rory whined. When he shook his head slowly at her, she frowned at him.   
  


"After school? Come on Tristan, I'll kiss you tons later." she pleaded.   
  


"Tempting..but this time I want a kiss, from my Girlfriend, right here."   
  


"Come on. Everyone's watching." Rory blushed, starring down at her hands.   
  


Tristan groaned. "So what? You love me, remember? The whole world be damned, right? They'll get used to it."   
  


Rory sighed. Lately Tristan seemed to want her to kiss him whenever they were in public. Stars Hollow residents had snickered and teased as he pulled her into his arms in Luke's, the town square even at the dairy shop over sundaes. It was as if he were displaying their relationship to the whole world, daring them to try to interfere.   
  


"Your just showing off!" she protested weakly.   
  


Tristan smiled at her. "Why not? I'm in love with the most beautiful, brilliant, sexy, sweet, crazy girl in the world and she adores me. What's not to show?"   
  


"Hey! If I'm crazy it's because my mother's driven me to it!" she muttered.   
  


"Stop procrastinating. I want my kiss." Tristan demanded. Rory huffed again prepared to put him off until later when she saw a hint of vulnerability pass through his eyes and immediately softened. Instead of pushing him away she reached over, sliding along the bench close enough to slide her hands around his waist, hugging him.   
  


She held him tight, breathing in the wonderful smell of aftershave on his skin, she'd grown to love. In his arms she always felt loved and so safe she often wondered if she deserved his love.    
  


"This is nice, Mary but I want my kiss." Tristan whispered against her ear, his warm breath tickling her. She leaned back to laugh up at him.   
  


Slowly her smile faded until she was studying him.   
  


"What?" he frowned self-consciously at her odd behavior.   
  


"I love you, you know?" she announced loudly. The cafeteria went silent suddenly as all eyes turned to stare at them. Tristan felt his face heat but he grinned nonsensically at her.   
  


"That's good. I love you, too."   
  


She laughed joyfully again as she caught hold of his tie, yanking him forward. She dragged him into her kiss, pouring her love and happiness into it. Tristan wrapped his arms around her , deepening the kiss, matching her love with his own.   
  


They broke apart when the sound of applause finally registered. Rory's face flamed but Tristan jumped to his feet to hop onto the table.   
  


"Thank you, thank you." he bowed, "we'll be here all week. Next show in three hours."   
  


Rory reached up to pull him down while classmates called out congratulations and catcalls. She dragged him to the door embarrassment filling her while the others patted Tristan's should as he passed them.   
  


"Geez, you'd think you'd just announced you had lost your virginity." Rory said once they'd made it outside.   
  


"Not mine." he smirked and she slugged him.   
  


"And who told them that?!" she demanded playfully.   
  


"No way. I would never-" he denied vehemently.   
  


"Ssh. I was teasing." Rory pressed a finger to his lips.   
  


"They don't believe it. They can't believe I could tell you I love you, kiss you and touch you and not-" he shrugged uncomfortably. He knew it was more than them not being able to believe, it was that some times he wasn't sure he could believe it. Wasn't sure he could do it. He wanted be that close to Rory so badly at times his skin felt as if it were on fire beneath the surface. Other times just holding her felt like such a miracle he knew he would never push her for more.   
  


"Who cares what they think? I know the truth, you know it." Rory slid her arms around him again, holding him close.   
  


"Besides, some day it'll be true, right?"   
  


"What?!" Rory laughed in surprise. "Tristan Dugrey!"   
  


"I'm just saying one day.." he pulled back to look down at her within the circle of his arms. "You'll tell me when."   
  


"Keep talking like that, Bible boy and you won't be able to practice even the circumstantial evidence for a long, long time." she threatened.   
  


Instantly he adopted a contrite look. "Sorry. I meant after we're married of course."   
  


"Ahh, and are we engaged? I don't think I've got my ring?" she asked silkily.   
  


"Eventually. First we should probably finish high school, start college." Tristan mused.   
  


"And if the time comes you might want to ask, instead of assuming." Rory suggested, her tone wry.   
  


"Sure. Want me to ask now so you can start planning? I know how those long term goals of yours work. I wasn't even sure you'd let me be the one to ask, kinda thought you had it all set already." he teased.   
  


"I do not." she muttered.   
  


Tristan smiled.   
  


"Okay, so maybe I thought about it a little! That's not a crime. It's not like I picked the date already." she said shoving him, since she was attached they both rocked for a moment until Tristan caught his balance.   
  


"It's okay. My life wasn't anything great until you came along, so if you want to stick around and make my life perfect for the rest of it, I think I'll let you."   
  


She stared up at him in wonder. "You make it better for me too." she lifted herself to meet his kiss even as his head came down to touch his lips to hers sweetly in a quick caress.   
  


"Can I ask now, where William is?" Rory asked when he pulled back.   
  


"Bristol, England. He's buried in a small town just south of there. He died in 1820 when he was 25, a fall from his horse. He never married, never had children." Tristan rubbed her back, unconsciously offering her comfort.   
  


"That's so sad." she said quietly, against his chest.   
  


"No it isn't. He loved Isabella more than anything in the world. He lived seven years without her and every moment must have felt like an eternity. It's better he died young." Tristan rubbed his chin against the top of her head.   
  


"But she wanted him to be happy, to go on living for her."   
  


"He couldn't. Without her he didn't know how to care about anyone, not even himself until she showed him. After she was gone, it must have hurt too much to keep going."   
  


"I can't believe how long ago it really happened. What am I saying, I can't believe it really happened." she sighed sadly. "Where's Isabella?"   
  


"She wasn't part of the upper class so it isn't recorded but I bet she's buried beside him." Tristan guessed.   
  


"How do you know?"   
  


"It's where I'd want to be if it was you. It's exactly how I'd feel if I lost you." Tristan told her quietly, his voice thick with emotion.   
  


Rory laid her head over his heart. "One day we'll go there. We'll lay flowers on their graves and tell them how they helped us find each other."   
  


"We'll go, but I have a feeling they already know how they saved us." Tristan said speculatively.   
  


"You think so?" Rory smiled at the thought.   
  


"No more dreams right?" she shook her head. "Because we did what they wanted. We followed our hearts, found each other and now we'll live happily ever after. And damn the whole world if they don't like it." Tristan said smoothing her hair.   
  


"Who says we'll live happily ever after?" Rory demanded with a laugh.   
  


"Me." Tristan told her arrogantly. "After all, I am the crowned prince of Chilton, right?"   
  


"I guess that makes me Cinderella?" Rory asked.   
  


"Hmm. Or Snow White or Beauty to my Beast." he said with an exaggerated leer.   
  


"Definitely that last one." she laughed, swatting him playfully.   
  


He pulled her close, leaning down to kiss her smiling lips, sealing her laughter between them.   
  
  
  


Elsewhere   
  


Isabella smiled as she looked down on the pair of young lovers. She remembered the joy, the sweetness that came with the laughter and kissing. She sighed contentedly as William slipped his arms around her pulling her close for all eternity. 


End file.
